No, it could not bring any pleasure
into the life of this slender, lithe English lady with the wonderful
Greek name, to be made acquainted with Cecilia Cricklander, who would
tear her to pieces without compunction the moment she understood in what
direction John Derringham's eyes would probably be cast. He saw Cora's
hesitation and understood, and was grateful.
"I believe this girl is trumps. I don't think she will even mention our
meeting," he said to himself.
Now for a few steps Miss Lutworth drew Arabella Clinker on ahead.
"Arabella, you dear," she whispered, "I don't want to say a word against
Cis--who, of course, is all right--but I have a feeling we won't tell
her we've met this dryad of a Halcyone La Sarthe. Have you got that
instinct, too?"
"Quite strongly," said Arabella, who never wasted words. "I was going to
mention to you the same idea myself."
"Then that is understood!" and she laughed her happy laugh. "I'll see
that Freynie doesn't peach!"
Thus it was that four demure and healthful-looking beings joined the
party on the terrace of Wendover, and described their pleasant walk,
without one word spoken of their _rencontre_ with the youngest Miss La
Sarthe.
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