Lena scented an exciting track, and was happy. "George Stringer told us about him. He saw them in the fields together." She put out her hands again, but Margaret shrank back with something that was like horror. "He said you looked so happy together, darling; and you lingered behind the hedge just as lovers always do."
"He is not my lover, and I hate him!" Margaret exclaimed.
"Mr. Garratt cares nothing for her, I can tell you that," said Hannah, emphatically.
"Oh, but he must," Lena answered. "George Stringer said you blushed so sweetly when you took him to the gate, and spoke of him, and then Tom—our dear Tom—told us how Mr. Garratt came to tea, and he was so careful not to say that you had taken him to the wood for fear there should be jealousy."
"Miss Lakeman, I want you to understand—" Margaret began.
"Darling, you must call me Lena."
"That Mr. Garratt comes here to see Hannah, my half-sister, and not to see me."
"Oh, but Tom said that you and he talked to each other all the time," Lena went on in her sugary voice.
"This is just what I expected, considering the goings on," Hannah cried, almost losing control over herself. "But it's not Margaret that he comes to see."