She met his eyes squarely, a slow flush staining her cheeks.
“Because I think there may be some change. Simon Overton has come back. He was here this afternoon.”
There was a sharp pause. Faunce met her gaze steadily for an instant longer; then he looked down at his plate, deliberately took his knife and fork, and began to eat like a man who had been suddenly relieved of a terrible suspense.
“Yes, I know he’s come back. I heard the details to-day; but I didn’t know he was here. I suppose he came here to see—you?”
She could not follow his example and try to eat, though she was aware that the little maid was watching them again with bright, curious eyes.
“He came up here to see his old aunt,” she replied with another effort. “I met him accidentally in the woods, and he came here to tea this afternoon. He left a message for you.”
“Yes?”
“He said he wanted to see you, and would wait—until you came.”
Faunce seemed to consider this and weigh it carefully; but he continued to eat his dinner with more appetite, Diane thought, than usual. Again she had a vague impression that he was relieved. The tension seemed less, and there was even a little color in his usually pale face.
“If you’ll excuse me, then, dear, I’ll go to see him as soon as we’ve finished dinner,” he said at last.