"If you mentioned that fact to anyone like Miss Black, it would go the round of the parish in no time."
"Would that matter?"
Roger was nonplussed for a moment. Her ignorance was colossal.
"Some things are better not talked about," he said. "I have been telling you of poor Dick, but there were things in his life that were better not talked about, so I did not mention them."
His words transfixed her. Was it possible that he was warning her that he was aware of her adventure with Dick? At any rate, she gave him her full attention now.
She raised her eyes to his and looked searchingly at him. And she saw with a certainty that nothing could shake, that he knew nothing, that he was only trying to save her from a petty annoyance.
"The Miss Nevills have always been very close about your father," he added. "You can ask them, but I think you would find they wouldn't be much pleased if his—profession was known down here. It might vex them. So many vexatious things in this world that can't be helped, aren't there? And if there are any that can, so much the better. That was all I came back to say. I should not volunteer it, if I were you. It seemed to drop out so naturally that I thought you might have said the same to Miss Black."
"Certainly I might. I do hate concealments of any kind." Annette spoke with conviction.
"So do I," said Roger whole-heartedly. "I've hushed up too many scrawls not to hate them. But this isn't a concealment. It's—it's—you see, Miss Black does run round with her tongue out and no mistake, and Uncle John's advice when I settled down here as his agent was, 'Never say more than you must.' So I just pass it on to you, now that you've settled down at Riff too."
And Roger departed for the second time. She watched him go, and a minute later heard him ride out of the courtyard.