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Cynthia
was
waiting
for
me
,
and
greeted
me
eagerly
with
:
“
I
say
!
There
’
s
been
the
most
awful
row
!
I
’
ve
got
it
all
out
of
Dorcas
.
”
“
What
kind
of
a
row
?
”
“
Between
Aunt
Emily
and
him
.
I
do
hope
she
’
s
found
him
out
at
last
!
”
“
Was
Dorcas
there
,
then
?
”
“
Of
course
not
.
She
‘
happened
to
be
near
the
door
’
.
It
was
a
real
old
bust
-
up
.
I
do
wish
I
knew
what
it
was
all
about
.
”
I
thought
of
Mrs
.
Raikes
’
s
gipsy
face
,
and
Evelyn
Howard
’
s
warnings
,
but
wisely
decided
to
hold
my
peace
,
whilst
Cynthia
exhausted
every
possible
hypothesis
,
and
cheerfully
hoped
,
“
Aunt
Emily
will
send
him
away
,
and
will
never
speak
to
him
again
.
”
I
was
anxious
to
get
hold
of
John
,
but
he
was
nowhere
to
be
seen
.
Evidently
something
very
momentous
had
occurred
that
afternoon
.
I
tried
to
forget
the
few
words
I
had
overheard
;
but
,
do
what
I
would
,
I
could
not
dismiss
them
altogether
from
my
mind
.
What
was
Mary
Cavendish
’
s
concern
in
the
matter
?
Mr
.
Inglethorp
was
in
the
drawing
-
room
when
I
came
down
to
supper
.
His
face
was
impassive
as
ever
,
and
the
strange
unreality
of
the
man
struck
me
afresh
.
Mrs
.
Inglethorp
came
down
last
.
She
still
looked
agitated
,
and
during
the
meal
there
was
a
somewhat
constrained
silence
.
Inglethorp
was
unusually
quiet
.
As
a
rule
,
he
surrounded
his
wife
with
little
attentions
,
placing
a
cushion
at
her
back
,
and
altogether
playing
the
part
of
the
devoted
husband
.
Immediately
after
supper
,
Mrs
.
Inglethorp
retired
to
her
boudoir
again
.
