Luncheon at Hopefield passed without incident; and afterward Cecilia retired to help her aunt with her correspondence, while Pepperton and I lounged about the house and smoked. I told him of my ineffectual efforts to reach Wiggins, and he volunteered to find a motor and search for him; but I pointed out the futility of this, and renewed my appeal that he stay on guard at Hopefield.
At about three o'clock Cecilia reappeared. Her color was high and her eyes were unusually brilliant. I knew that she fully realized that the crisis was near, but she asked no questions and her manner reassured me of her confidence. We idled on the stone terrace above the frost-smitten garden, which in its ruin still satisfied the eye with color. I had purposely drawn some chairs to a corner well screened by vines, so that I could note the approach of any visitors who came cross country by way of the stile.
We were hardly seated before Dick entered the garden, followed immediately by the six other suitors I had last seen at the inn. They ranged themselves on a stone bench facing the house at the end of one of the paths. They wore sack coats and hats in a variety of styles, so that they did not present quite the bizarre effect produced by their frock coats and silk tiles. They surveyed the house sadly, bowed their heads upon their sticks, and seemed to have come to stay. The siege, then, had become a practical matter!
"Why don't the gentlemen come in?" asked Cecilia, peering through the vines.
"Hush! There's a rumor that you are terribly ill; they've come merely to pay their tribute of respect by waiting in the garden. You had better go quietly into the house. The shock of seeing you in your usual health might be too much for them."
"But I can't! I must be accessible at all times," she cried, looking helplessly from me to Pepperton, who was all at sea for an explanation. "If that impression is abroad, I shall appear at once."
"Then you and Pepperton must patrol the terrace here; you are lovers for all I know. Ignore them utterly in your absorption with one another. If any one approaches you, Pepperton, ask Miss Hollister to marry you."
"Me!" gasped Pepperton.
"No; it can't be done that way," Cecilia interposed. "Mr. Pepperton has told me of his engagement. I can't be party to a fraud, a trick. I can't countenance it at all. It would ruin everything!"
"Then stay right here; pace back and forth, and I'll manage the rest. I don't for the life of me know how, but I'll do it."