I did not leave next morning, as my fair-faced little friend had suggested, neither did Pennington return.
About eleven o’clock I strolled forth into the warm sunshine on the terrace, and there, to my surprise, saw Sylvia sitting upon one of the seats, with a cream sunshade over her head, a book in her lap, while by her side lounged the mysterious watcher of the night before—the English clergyman, Mr. Shuttleworth of Andover.
Neither noticed me. He was speaking to her slowly and earnestly, she listening attentively to his words. I saw that she sighed deeply, her fine eyes cast upon the ground.
It all seemed as though he were reproaching her with something, for she was silent, in an attitude almost of penitence.
Now that I obtained a full view of the reverend gentleman’s features in full daylight they seemed less mysterious, less sinister than in the half-light of midnight. He looked a grave, earnest, sober-living man, with that slight affectation of the Church which one finds more in the rural districts than in cities, for the black clerical straw hat and the clerical drawl seem always to go together. It is strange that the village curate is always more affected in his speech than the popular preacher of the West End, and the country vicar’s wife is even more exclusive in her tea-and-tennis acquaintances than the wife of the lord bishop himself.
For a few moments I watched unseen. I rather liked the appearance of the Reverend Edmund Shuttleworth, whoever he might be. He had the look of an honest, open, God-fearing man.
Yet why was he in such earnest consultation with the mysterious Sylvia?
With his forefinger he was touching the palm of his left hand, apparently to emphasize his words, while she looked pale, even frightened. She was listening without comment, without protest, while I stood watching them from behind. Many other visitors were idling about the terrace, reading letters or newspapers, or chatting or flirting—the usual morning occupations of a fashionable lake-side hotel far removed from the strenuous turmoil of the business or social worlds.
Suddenly she objected to some words which he uttered, objected strongly, with rapid interruption and quick protest.
But he laid his hand quietly upon her arm, and seemed to convince her of the truth or justice of his words.