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"Now we can croon." And croon they did through the long crowded way to Covent Garden. By the time the motor reached St. Martin's Lane, Waggin was in possession of all that had happened. She had long expected it, having shrewdly noted many signs of Lady Coryston's accumulating wrath.
Marcia read her; had indeed been compelled to read her mother the movements of hand and brow, the tricks of expression from childhood up. And she detected, from various signs of nervousness, that Lady Coryston expected a rough time. She led the way to it, however, with deliberation. She took no notice of Coryston's, "Well, mother, what's up?
"She's got something cruel in her eyes." "Cruel! Why, Lady Coryston's coming " "To trample on her? Of course. I know that. But any fool can see that the game will be Miss Glenwilliam's. She'll have my mother in a cleft stick. I'm not sure I oughtn't to be somewhere about. Well, well. I'll march. When shall we 'resume the conversation, as you put it?" He looked at her, smiling.
The circumstances of Coryston's disinheritance were now well known to many people; the prospects of the younger son were understood. The Glenwilliams were poor; the prospects of the party doubtful; the girl ambitious.
He had just dismissed a local reporter who had got wind of Miss Coryston's visit to the farm, and had rushed over to Coryston, in the hope of seeing her. "My dear child!" He hurried to meet her. "You look a perfect wreck! How abominable that you should be mixed up with this thing!" "I couldn't help it," she said, vaguely, turning away at once from the discussion of it. "Where is Arthur?
"Waggin and James. Arthur may come in. He thinks the House will be up early. And I asked Mr. Lester. But he can't come for the first part." Her mother held her sleeve and looked up, smiling. Lady Coryston's smiles were scarcely less formidable than her frowns. "You expect to see Edward Newbury?" "I dare say. They have their box, as usual." "Well! run off and enjoy yourself.
He threw himself down beside her. "Well?" Brother and sister had only met twice since Coryston's settlement at Knatchett once in the village street, and once when Marcia had invaded his bachelor quarters at Knatchett. On that occasion she had discharged upon him all the sarcasm and remonstrance of which she was capable.
Silence reigned, for a few painful moments. The eyes of the two combatants were on each other. The change in Lady Coryston's aspect was something quite different from what is ordinarily described as "turning pale." It represented rather the instinctive and immediate rally of the whole human personality in the presence of danger more deadly than any it has yet encountered.
At the moment when Marcia and Newbury were crossing the formal garden on the west front of the house, one of two persons in Lady Coryston's sitting-room observed them. These persons were strange to say Lady Coryston and her eldest son. Lady Coryston, after luncheon, had felt so seriously unwell that she had retired to her sitting-room, with strict injunctions that she must be left alone.
He says there is only one house in the neighborhood he could take " "He has taken it." Marcia opened her right hand, in which she crushed a telegram. "Bellows has just brought me this." Lady Coryston opened and read it. "Have taken Knatchett for three years. Tell mother." Lady Coryston's lips stiffened. "He has lost no time. He can vex and distress us, of course. We shall have to bear it."
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