'Oh! with whom?' asked Mrs. Leyburn, her look brightening. She liked a love affair as much as ever.
Mrs. Thornburgh furtively looked round to see if the door was shut and all safe—she felt herself a criminal, but the sense of guilt had an exhilarating rather than a depressing effect upon her.
'Have you guessed nothing? have the girls told you anything?'
'No!' said Mrs. Leyburn, her eyes opening wider and wider. She never guessed anything; there was no need, with three daughters to think for her, and give her the benefit of their young brains. 'No,' she said again. 'I can't imagine what you mean.'
Mrs. Thornburgh felt a rush of inward contempt for so much obtuseness.
'Well, then, he is in love with Catherine!' she said abruptly, laying her hand on Mrs. Leyburn's knee, and watching the effect.
'With Catherine!' stammered Mrs. Leyburn; 'with Catherine!'
The idea was amazing to her. She took up her knitting with trembling fingers, and went on with it mechanically a second or two. Then laying it down—'Are you quite sure? has he told you?'
'No, but one has eyes,' said Mrs. Thornburgh hastily. 'William and I have seen it from the very first day. And we are both certain that on Tuesday she made him understand in some way or other that she wouldn't marry him, and that is why he went off to Ullswater, and why he made up his mind to go south before his time is up.'
'Tuesday?' cried Mrs. Leyburn. 'In that walk, do you mean, when Catherine looked so tired afterwards? You think he proposed in that walk?'