"No luck about it at all," corrected Isobel. "I heard he was in London, so of course he had to come here." Allen beamed. "I'd have every one of my friends here if I could only get hold of them," she added maliciously; Allen's face fell.
"We must organize some cricket for you," went on the vicar. He was proceeding to enlarge on this congenial topic when his wife brought him sternly back to the object of his visit.
"Is Sir Edward in?" she asked Miss FitzPeter. "The vicar and I have called to see him about...." She broke off her sentence in the middle with a startling suddenness and seemed to be struggling with herself. Mr. Davies, not knowing what was the matter, but anxious to cover his wife's confusion, hurled himself into the breach.
"Yes," he corroborated, "we feel that he ought to be told that...." He got no further. A comical look of mingled fear and suspicion crossed his face. Isobel and Allen waited for the sentence to be brought to some conclusion, but in vain.
"Well," replied Isobel, when it was plain that no more was forthcoming, "I believe dad is in the library. I—I hope nothing awful has happened—nobody's dead, or anything, are they?"
The vicar looked distressed.
"Oh, no, no. Nothing of that kind at all—not in the least. I just want to tell him that...."
Again there was an awkward pause. All four were now plainly embarrassed.
"I'm sorry—perhaps I oughtn't to have asked," Isobel apologized at last. There was just a touch of stiffness in her tone, and poor Mr. Davies grew more troubled than ever.
"Not in the least," he protested. "Please don't think that. The whole matter is simply that.... I mean to say, you see, we...."