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'You were not going to consult me, Mr Coningham, were you? I said, now able at length to laugh without effort. 'Not quite that, he returned, also laughing. 'But a right, you know, is one of the most serious things in the world. It seemed irrelevant to the trifling character of the case. I could not understand why he should regard the affair as of such importance.
She spoke so loud that she must have meant Charley to hear her. But when I looked back, I saw that he had fallen a long way behind, and was coming on very slowly, with dejected look and his eyes on the ground. Mr Coningham did not interfere by word or sign. When we reached the inn he ordered some refreshment, and behaved to us both as if we were grown men.
'I beg your pardon a thousand times, Miss Coningham, I exclaimed. 'Will you allow me to explain, or must I retreat unheard? I was vexed indeed, for, notwithstanding a certain flutter at the heart, I had no wish to renew my acquaintance with her. 'There must be some fatality about the place, Mr Cumbermede! she said, almost with her old merry laugh. 'It frightens me.
'Mr Coningham has a son there an attorney too, I think, said my aunt. My uncle seemed struck by the reminder, and became meditative. 'That explains his choosing such a night to come in. His father is getting an old man now. Yes, it must be the same. 'He's a sharp one, folk say, said my aunt, with a pointedness in the remark which showed some anxiety.
I won't answer a single other you choose to ask, unless I please, which is not in the least likely. She made me a low half merry, half mocking courtesy and left the room. The same moment her father came in, following old Mr Coningham, who gave me a kindly welcome, and said his horse was at my service, but he hoped I would lunch with him first.
He said little more, but from what followed, I suspect either he or his father spoke to Sir Giles on the subject; for, one day, as I was walking past the park-gates, which I had seldom entered since my return, I saw him just within, talking to old Mr Coningham.
She did not reply, but led the way up a stair, across the little open gallery, and by passages I did not remember, to the room I wanted. It was in precisely the same condition as when I occupied it. 'This is the room, I believe, she said, as she unlocked and threw open the door. 'Perhaps it would suit you, Miss Coningham? 'Not in the least, answered Clara.
I gratefully consented, and soon luncheon was announced. Miss Coningham, Clara's aunt, was in the dining-room before us. A dry, antiquated woman, she greeted me with unexpected frankness. Lunch was half over before Clara entered in a perfectly fitting habit, her hat on, and her skirt thrown over her arm.
'I'm very sorry, I said; 'but I felt so awkward in this costume that I couldn't bring myself to speak before. I tried very hard. 'Poor boy! she returned, rather more mockingly than I liked, her violets swimming in the dews of laughter. By this time Mr Coningham had apparently recovered his self-possession. I say apparently, for I doubt if he had ever lost it.
'Ah! he said, lifting his eyebrows, 'I thought I knew the old horse! What a nice cob you've got, Miss Coningham. He had not chosen to recognize me, of which I was glad, for I hardly knew how to order my behaviour to him. I had forgotten nothing.
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