There was just a suspicion of the “elder brother” in his manner—only a suspicion, but it was quite sufficient to arouse all the latent contrariety of woman which Ann possessed.
“Well, Mrs. Hilyard isn’t your employer,” she retorted. “So I’ve a perfect right to feel interested in her.”
“But not in her relation to Mr. Coventry,” maintained Robin seriously.
The corners of Ann’s mouth curled up in a mutinous smile, and her eyes danced.
“My dear Robin, you can’t insulate a woman as you can an electric wire—at least, not if she has any pretensions to good looks.”
“No, I suppose you can’t,” he admitted, smiling back unwillingly. “More’s the pity, sometimes!”
There, for the moment, the subject dropped, but the imp of mischief still flickered defiantly in the golden-brown eyes, and when, after dinner was over, Maria brought in the coffee, Ann threw out a tentative remark which instantly achieved its nefarious purpose of loosening the springs of Maria’s garrulity.
“They be telling up a tale in the village about the new lady as has taken the Priory,” began Maria conversationally.
Ann sugared her coffee with an air of detachment, and watched Robin fidgeting out of the tail of her eye.
“You shouldn’t listen to gossip, Maria,” she reprimanded primly.