If Kelson might, in ordinary circumstances, have wondered at the motive for his friend's proposal, which was but thinly disguised, he was in too happy a state of preoccupation to trouble his head about it.
"I'm your man," he responded promptly. "It so happens that Muriel is lunching at Wynford to-morrow, so it will suit me well enough. I shouldn't be surprised if we get a note in the morning asking us to lunch there too."
The morning, however, brought no note of invitation; a failure which rather surprised Kelson, although Gifford thought he could account for it.
Nevertheless he determined to go and do his best to get a private talk with Edith Morriston, however disinclined she might be to grant it. The two men went up to Wynford early in the afternoon, but it was a long time before Gifford got the opportunity he sought. Edith Morriston seemed as friendly and gracious as ever, but whether by accident or design she gave no chance for Gifford to get in a private word. With the knowledge of what he had seen on the previous afternoon and of the change in her attitude he was too shrewd to show any anxiety for a confidential talk. He watched her closely when he could do so unobserved, but her face gave no sign of trouble or embarrassment. He wondered if there could after all be anything in his idea of persecution, and the more curious he became the more determined he grew to find out. But somehow Miss Morriston contrived that they should never be alone together; when Kelson and Muriel Tredworth strolled off lover-like, Miss Morriston kept her brother with her to make a third.
The three went round to the stables and inspected the hunters, then through the shrubbery to admire a wonderful bed of snowdrops. As they stood there looking over the undulating park, and Gifford, curbing his impatience, was talking of certain changes which had taken place since his early days there, the butler was seen hurrying towards them.
"Callers, I suppose," Morriston observed with a half-yawn. "What is it, Stent?"
"Could I speak to you, sir?" the man said, stopping short a little distance away.
Morriston went forward to him, and after they had spoken together he turned round, and with an "Excuse me for a few minutes," went off towards the house with the butler.
So at last the opportunity had come. Gifford glanced at his companion and noticed that her face had gone a shade paler than before the interruption.
"I wonder what can be the matter," she observed, a little anxiously Gifford thought. Then she laughed. "I dare say it is nothing; Stent is becoming absurdly fussy; and all the alarms and discoveries we have had lately have not diminished the tendency."