"But if Rooke is there—"
"Maryon?" She paused, then went on with a chilly little note of haughtiness in her voice. "I certainly don't propose to invite Maryon Rooke to Mallow."
"Still, you can't prevent him from taking a summer holiday at St.
Wennys."
St. Wennys was a small fishing village on the Cornish coast, barely a mile away from Mallow Court.
"He won't come—I'm sure!" asserted Kitty. "Sir Robert Burnham lives quite near there—he's Maryon's godfather—and they hate each other like poison."
"Why?"
"Oh, old Sir Robert was Maryon's guardian till he came of age, and then, when Maryon decided to go in for painting, he presented him with the small patrimony to which he was entitled and declined to have anything further to do with him—either financially or otherwise. Simply chucked him. Maryon went through some very bad times, I believe, in his early days," continued Kitty, striving to be just. "That's the one thing I respect him for. He stuck to it and won through to where he stands now."
"It shows he's got some grit, anyway," agreed Peter. "And do you think"—smiling—"that that's the type of man who's going to give in over winning the woman he wants? . . . Should I, if things were different—if I were free?"
Kitty laughed reluctantly.
"You? No. But you're not Maryon Rooke. He could never be the kind of lover you would be, my Peter. With him, his art counts first of anything in the wide world. And that's why I don't think he'll come to St. Wennys. He's in love with Nan—as far as his type can be in love—but he's not going to tie himself up with her. So he'll keep away."