"There was a fellow called Whitehouse who used to be Young's riding-master; and it seems he has made some money in London, and set up a smart livery stable—and he proposed that Mr. Kenion should join forces with him. Mr. Kenion was to go about the country, buying horses—and so on.... But I only mentioned this to amuse you. Of course I said Bosh—not to be thought of."
"It does not sound very promising, or very reputable."
"Besides, where did Enid come in? Was she to accompany him, or to stay moping at home by herself?... Do you see much of them out there?"
Mrs. Marsden confessed that she had not as yet ever seen the Kenions in their home.
"It isn't that there's the least bad blood between us," she hastened to add. "No, dear Enid and I are now the best of friends. Ever since her marriage she has been sweet to me. But life rushes on so fast—and married women are not free agents. When Richard is away, I consider myself responsible in the shop."
"Just so." And Mr. Prentice, puffing out some smoke, looked at the ceiling. "By the by, that's rather an awkward dispute that Mr. Marsden has let himself into with those German people."
"What is the dispute?"
"Hasn't he told you about it?"
"I don't seem to remember—but no doubt he told me."
"Well, if he hasn't it's a good sign: because it probably means that he intends to act on my advice after all."