It was after that that Clayton began to wonder what she was planning.
He came home late one afternoon to find that they were spending the evening in, and to find a very serious Natalie waiting, when he came down-stairs dressed for dinner. She made an effort to be conversational, but it was a failure. He was uneasily aware that she was watching him, inspecting, calculating, choosing her moment. But it was not until they were having coffee that she spoke.
“I'm uneasy about Graham, Clay.”
He looked up quickly.
“Yes?”
“I think he ought to go away somewhere.”
“He ought to stay here, and make a man of himself,” he came out, almost in spite of himself. He knew well enough that such a note always roused Natalie's antagonism, and he waited for the storm. But none came.
“He's not doing very well, is he?”
“He's not failing entirely. But he gives the best of himself outside the mill. That's all.”
She puzzled him. Had she heard of Marion?