"She was with Miss Octavia in her gallop over Europe, so I saw a good deal of her necessarily. She is younger than Cecilia; she's a good deal of a kid,—the sort that never grows up, you know."
"Just like her aunt Octavia!"
"Bah! Don't mention that woman. Hezekiah is a very pretty girl; and I suppose,—well, when you are thrown with a girl that way, seeing her constantly"—
I clapped my hand on his knee as the light began to dawn upon me.
"You old rascal, you don't need to add a single word! I dare say you are guilty. I can see it in your eye. After waiting till you reached years of discretion before beginning an attack upon womankind, you began mowing them down in platoons. So they come running now that you 've got a start. Oh, Wiggy, and I believed you immune! And you 're trying to drive 'em tandem."
The thing was funny, knowing Wiggins as I did, and I gave expression to my mirth; but his fierce demeanor quickly brought me back to the serious contemplation of his difficulty.
"That, you shameless wretch, would be a sufficient reason for Miss Octavia's aloofness,—your double-faced dealing with her nieces? You confirm my impression that she is a wise woman. And Cecilia, I take it, may be deeply embarrassed by her sister's infatuation for you. You certainly have made a tangle of things, you heart-wrecker, you conscienceless deceiver! But where, may I ask, does this Hezekiah keep herself?"
"Oh, she's with her father. They have a bungalow over the hills there, several miles from Hopefield Manor."
"Well, I hope you are no longer toying with her affections. Of course you don't see her any more?"
"Well," he mumbled, "I did see her this morning. But I could n't help it. It was the merest chance. I met her in the road when I was out taking a walk. She 's always turning up,—she's the most unaccountable young person."