"I came here to look for you, Olivia," Edward Arundel said presently.
"I want to ask you a question. Will you come into the wood with me?"
"Yes, if you wish it," Mrs. Marchmont answered quietly.
The cousins went out of the painting-room together, leaving Paul
Marchmont alone. They walked on for a few yards in silence.
"What is the question you came here to ask me?" Olivia asked abruptly.
"The Kemberling people have raised a report about you which I should fancy would be scarcely agreeable to yourself," answered Edward. "You would hardly wish to benefit by Mary's death, would you, Olivia?"
He looked at her searchingly as he spoke. Her face was at all times so expressive of hidden cares, of cruel mental tortures, that there was little room in her countenance for any new emotion. Her cousin looked in vain for any change in it now.
"Benefit by her death!" she exclaimed. "How should I benefit by her death?"
"By marrying the man who inherits this estate. They say you are going to marry Paul Marchmont."
Olivia looked at him with an expression of surprise.
"Do they say that of me?" she asked. "Do people say that?"