"By pure dodgery and sharp practise, I've been turned out of it. It's a scandal that the law—"
"Now, now!" he interrupted. "Don't let us become excited unless there is good need for it. Has your brother-in-law paid you a fair sum?"
"I'm not grumbling about that. As a matter of fact, he gave me what I asked, without any haggling."
He nodded approvingly. "If it had all been arranged by wise friends," he said, "it could scarcely have happened better."
"And do you too think, sir, that my people have been scheming and planning—"
"You mustn't get so flushed and emotional, Miss Weston," he ordered. "I know nothing whatever about your people, or what they are doing. Just you take matters quietly, and be thankful you can afford to do so. I'll send some medicine along this evening. Call again, if you find you are no better."
I challenged Millwood later with being one of the members of a conspiracy, and he smiled and said nothing. The suspicion would not have galled me so much, I suppose, but for the circumstance that I had always reckoned myself a stage manager directing other people, and the positions were now reversed. I decided to say nothing of it at Gloucester Place, where it seemed likely the chief movers in the plot might be found, and this was the easier because Katherine's baby occupied my attention; we went into the park together, and rested near the trees, and I picked flowers that delighted the small person and were treasured to be presented later to mamma. Also, at home, old Mrs. Winterton was glad of my help and my advice.
"The Captain talks of nothing now but the war, my dear," she explained, "and I can't help wishing he had done so earlier, like most folk, instead of bottling it up. But I am hoping we shall get peace almost directly, and then he'll be comforted, and he will begin to mend, you see."
"Do you really imagine the war is nearly at an end?"