Out of the corner of an eye Mrs. Austen glanced at Paliser and then back
at Verelst. "Well, something of the kind."
Verelst raised his cup. He had known Lennox' father. He knew and liked
the son. For Margaret he had an affection that was almost--and which
might have been--paternal. But, noting the barometer, he steered into
the open.
"Have Lennox here morning, noon and night. See to it that Margaret has
every opportunity to get sick to death of him. Whereas if you
interfere----"
Mrs. Austen, as though invoking the saints, lifted her eyes. "Ah, I
know! If I had not been interfered with I would not have taken Austen.
Much good it did me!"
Verelst, his hand on the tiller, nodded. "There you are! That locksmith
business is very sound. Love revels in it. But give him his head and
good-bye. Sooner or later he is bound to take to his heels, but, the
more he is welcomed, the sooner he goes. The history of love is a
history of farewells."
Paliser, who had caught the last phrase, felt like laughing and
consequently looked very serious. The spectacle of two antiques
discussing love seemed to him as hilarious as two paupers discussing
wealth. He patted his tie.
"Very interesting topic, Mrs. Austen."