"What impudencewhat unwarrantable impudence!" The words were shot from between her teeth. "Youyou dare to speak to me like thisyouyou"
"After all, Miss Challoner," I cut in, "it's true. I no more sent that, or any telegram, to Dulcie than I am flying over the moon at this moment. And if you still disbelieve me, at least tell me why. Yes, I must know. Don't evade an answer. You have something else in your mind, I can see that, and I am not going to rest until I know what that something is."
"Oh, you very rude young man," she burst out. "Yes, you shall know what it is! If, as you say, the telegram was not sent by youand I suppose I must believe youwhy was it not sent to Sir Roland? Such a telegram should have been sent to him, and not to his daughterif the stolen property had been found, it was for him to come to Town, or even for me to, but certainly it was not Dulcie's place to go gallivanting about in London. Now, I maintain it was sent to Dulcie because the sender knew Sir Roland to be away from homeand who, but you, knew him to be away? He left only yesterday, and he should return to-night. You knew because, so my niece tells me, she told you in a letter that he was to leave home for a day."
"My niece!" Really, Aunt Hannah was qualifying for opéra bouffe! Just then she knocked her spoon so loudly against her cup that it startled me.
"Don't worry, Dulcie," I said, seeing how distressed she looked. "You believe I didn't send it, anywayI don't mind what anybody else thinks," I added spitefully. "The mystery will be cleared up sooner or later, and 'he laughs longest ...' you know the rest. Only one thing I wonder," I ended, again facing Aunt Hannah, "if you thought that, why did you bring Dulcie up to town? Why didn't you leave her at Holt, and come up alone?"
"I will tell you why," she snapped back. "Because, wilful and disobedient as she has always been, she refused to stay at Holt and let me come up alone."
Dulcie looked at me without answering, and I read love and confidence in her eyes. That was all I really cared to know, and the look afforded me immense relief.
I felt there was no good purpose to be served by remaining there longer, so after shaking hands warmly with Dulcieto the manifold disapproval of Aunt Hannah, who stared at me frigidly and barely even bowed as I took my leaveI sauntered out into Piccadilly.
My thoughts wandered. They were not, I must say, of the happiest. Obviously there was an enemy somewhereit might be enemies. But who could it be? Why should I have, we havefor Dulcie suffered equallyan enemy? What reason could anyone have for wishing to make Dulcie, or me, or any of the Challoners, unhappy? Everybody I knew who knew them seemed to love them, particularly the tenantry. Sir Roland was looked up to and respected by both county people and villagers for miles around Holt Stacey, while Dulcie was literally adored by men and women alike, or so I believed. True, old Aunt Hannah sometimes put people out owing to her eccentricities and her irascible temper, but then they mostly looked upon her as a rather queer old lady, and made allowances for her, and she had not, I felt sure, an enemy in the country-side.
As for myself, well, I could not recollect ever doing any particularly bad turnI had my likes and dislikes among the people I knew, naturally. Then suddenly a thought struck memy engagement to Dulcie. Could that be