“Yes, he did,” Lady Clevedon interposed. “He proposed to you a year ago and you refused him. Was it over you they quarrelled, Kitty?”
“I don’t know anything about it,” Miss Clevedon returned a little wearily. “I don’t know why they should.”
The old lady rose from her seat and strode towards a little bureau in one corner of the room from which she took a bundle of newspaper cuttings.
“Yes, here is the report,” she said, and she began to read an extract from Mrs. Halfleet’s evidence in a loud, rather strident voice.
“I heard Sir Philip say, ‘You are talking nonsense. I cannot compel her to marry me against her will. The decision rests with her.’ He was not exactly shouting but was speaking a little more loudly than usual. Mr. Thoyne seemed angry. ‘You must release her from her promise,’ he said. His voice was hoarse and he struck the table with his stick as he spoke. I think Sir Philip stood up from his seat then. I did not see him, of course, but I seemed to hear him walking up and down. And he spoke sharply, almost angrily. The words appeared to come out with a sort of snap. ‘I have nothing to say in this matter,’ Sir Philip declared. ‘I neither hold her to her promise nor release her from it. The decision rests solely with her. If she notifies me that she cannot marry me, I have no power to compel her. But I am not prepared to take your word for it. The decision must come from herself.’ Mr. Thoyne said, ‘That is your last word, is it?’ to which Sir Philip replied, ‘My first word and my last. As far as I am concerned I am engaged and remain engaged until the young lady herself notifies me that the engagement is at an end.’ Then Mr. Thoyne said, ‘If you don’t release her I shall find a way of making you—I shall find a way.’”
The old lady ceased reading and glanced at Kitty over the top of her spectacles.
“What is behind it?” she cried. “Tell me, what is behind it all?”
“I don’t know,” Kitty said. “How should I know?”
“But—was it—who was it?”
“It may have been—Nora Lepley.”