"Afraid of you?" asked Bobby in surprise. "I am not. Why should I be?"
It was a challenge. "We have been warned to be cautious."
"It was not I who was incautious," said Elizabeth.
Bobby smiled, and his smile was not pleasant to see, but he spoke in a
faultless manner.
"You are never incautious," he said. "Trust you for that."
Then Pukkie came running, with Tidda after him, and they pitched upon
Bobby and created a diversion, which we welcomed.
Our dinner was not a success, as may well be imagined. Elizabeth was
cold and silent, which was not like her. We had come to know Elizabeth
pretty well, and we liked her; and we knew Bobby very well, and we liked
him. And it is unpleasant and awkward when people whom you like and who
like each other--I knew it well enough--speak together little and look
upon one another with hostility which is but ill concealed. And, dinner
over, we withdrew to our candles, but Elizabeth went up with Tidda, and
Pukkie followed her. Bobby laughed mirthlessly at that, and muttered
something. It sounded to me like "latest victim."
We had a pleasant but short evening with Bobby, and he left early,
making an excuse of duty. As we turned away we encountered Elizabeth,
who murmured that she had just got the children to sleep, and said that
she was going out for a few minutes.
"I was glad to hear that news of Jack," she said. "To say truth, I have
known it for a long time. Jack told me." Truly, she was not incautious.
"It will settle the yeogirl. That was a joke, he wrote me. But, whether
it was or not, it will settle her."
"And Olivia?" I asked.
"Olivia is settled already. She has gone home."