“Then why did you come up today?” I asked.
“To keep you quiet.”
Mrs. Nettlepoint’s dinner was served on deck, but I went into the saloon. Jasper was there, but not Grace Mavis, as I had half-expected. I sought to learn from him what had become of her, if she were ill—he must have thought I had an odious pertinacity—and he replied that he knew nothing whatever about her. Mrs. Peck talked to me—or tried to—of Mrs. Nettlepoint, expatiating on the great interest it had been to see her; only it was a pity she didn’t seem more sociable. To this I made answer that she was to be excused on the score of health.
“You don’t mean to say she’s sick on this pond?”
“No, she’s unwell in another way.”
“I guess I know the way!” Mrs. Peck laughed. And then she added: “I suppose she came up to look after her pet.”
“Her pet?” I set my face.
“Why Miss Mavis. We’ve talked enough about that.”
“Quite enough. I don’t know what that has had to do with it. Miss Mavis, so far as I’ve noticed, hasn’t been above today.”
“Oh it goes on all the same.”