“I have been chatting about family affairs and matchmaking like a garrulous old woman, haven't I,” she observed, smiling. “So silly of me. You have been charmingly kind to listen, Mr. Knowles. Forgive me, won't you. Carleton dear is my one interest in life and I talk of him on the least excuse, or without any. So sorry to have inflicted my garrulity upon you. I may count upon you entering our invitation golf tournament next month, may I not? Oh, do say yes. Thank you so much. Au revoir.”
She moved off, as imposing and majestic as a frigate under full sail. I walked slowly toward home, thinking hard.
I should have been flattered, perhaps, at her taking me into confidence concerning her nephew's matrimonial projects. If I had believed the “garrulity,” as she called it, to have been unintentional, I might have been flattered. But I did not so believe. I was pretty certain there was intention in it and that she expected Frances and Hephzy and me to take it as a warning. Carleton dear was, in her eyes, altogether too friendly with the youngest tenant in Mayberry rectory. The “garrulity” was a notice to keep hands off.
I was not incensed at her; she amused me, rather. But with Heathcroft I was growing more incensed every moment. Engaged to be married, was he! He and this Warwickshire girl of “fine family” had been “so fond” of each other for years. Everything was understood, was it? Then what did he mean by his attentions to Frances, attentions which half of Mayberry was probably discussing at the moment? The more I considered his conduct the angrier I became. It was the worst time possible for a meeting with A. Carleton Heathcroft, and yet meet him I did at the loneliest and most secluded spot in the hedged lane leading to the lodge gate.
He greeted me cordially enough, if his languid drawl could be called cordial.
“Ah, Knowles,” he said. “Been doing the round I see. A bit stupid by oneself, I should think. What? Miss Morley and I have been riding. Had a ripping canter together.”
It was an unfortunate remark, just at that time. It had the effect of spurring my determination to the striking point. I would have it out with him then and there.
“Heathcroft,” I said, bluntly, “I am not sure that I approve of Miss Morley's riding with you so often.”
He regarded me with astonishment.
“You don't approve!” he repeated. “And why not? There's no danger. She rides extremely well.”