"Hang the birds!"
"Come, come!" she called to the others. "Lord Milborough's patience is
failing him so completely that he is on the verge of bad language. We
are in the way."
Wareham had neither smile nor word, but a look in place of them in which
he blissfully fancied reproach lurked.
The wood-shed was nearly a mile from the house, and in the nearest curve
of road two or three carriages were waiting; one was Lady Fanny's
pony-carriage. Miss Dalrymple asked to be taken in it.
"I am obliged to drive to Risley, not an interesting little town for a
stranger," Lady Fanny demurred, but Anne held to her wish.
"Are you two going off together?" Mrs Martyn asked discontentedly,
only to be answered by a laugh from Anne, and a gesture which pointed
out Lady Dalrymple to her as a companion.
"Blanche detests my step-mother," Anne explained as they drove away.
The remark jarred on Fanny, who thought only close friendship excused
family criticisms, and read them in the speech. She expressed civil
regret that the carriage would hold no more.
"Don't regret it," Anne said contentedly. "This is the first time that
you and I have been alone together. But you are a very princess of
hostesses."
Fanny flushed, pleased with the praise.
"You should have been with us in Norway. Why did not your brother bring
you?"
"He thought better of it."
"And you would have come in for a sad time." She went on to speak of
the sadness. "It was a great shock to Mr Wareham to find his friend so
ill."
"Terrible!" cried Lady Fanny, impulsively. "I saw him the day before he
had the telegram."
"Yes?"
"At the Ravenhills'. I was staying with them. Of course, then he knew
nothing." Anne felt as if cold fingers had touched her.
"Ah, you made acquaintance with him at the Ravenhills'?" she remarked
carelessly.
"Yes, he came there two or three times," said Millie's friend, glad to
put an emphasis on the acquaintance. "They know him well, I think; I
suppose from having met in Norway. Yesterday, he brought something I
had left at their house."
Anne pondered. She was sure that she was the preferred, but was it not
probable that with Wareham, who succeeded so admirably in repressing his
feelings, cool judgment might stand arrayed against her, and carry the
day? A peep-hole to his heart. What would she not give for it! At
that moment she felt as if all that she wanted was--to know.
"Miss Ravenhill is your friend?"
"The dearest!" Rash Fanny added quickly, "I would give a great deal to
see her happy."
"And what does that mean?" asked Anne, her lips tightening, though she
smiled.
Fanny caught herself back.
"I suppose only Millie could tell us."
"Or one other."
No answer was given. Lady Fanny whipped up her ponies, they went flying
down one hill, swung up another. A wind had risen, a grey squadron of
clouds scudded overhead, out of the yellow trees came rustle and fall of
leaf. By way of a safer subject, Fanny prophesied change of weather and
rain.
"That will affect to-morrow's shootings," remarked Anne. "Poor Lord
Milborough!"
"Oh, he'll not mind. I don't think he was keen about it to-day."