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"Mightn't we just say why ?" "It's no use," interrupted Lindsay decidedly. "We'd better not breathe a word." And Cicely, as usual, gave way. It was gratifying to feel that they were Monica's champions, though she might not yet be aware of what she owed them.
The vivacious lady did not stay long. When she had rustled forth again to her carriage, Widdowson broke into a paean of amorous gratitude. What could he do to show how he appreciated Monica's self-denial on his behalf? For a day or two he was absent rather mysteriously, and in the meantime made up his mind, after consultation with Newdick, to take his wife for a holiday in Guernsey.
Miss Russell, who did not like the responsibility of being even a temporary custodian of such riches, had informed the Rector of what had occurred, and requested him to come to the Manor and help her to investigate the matter. As he was Monica's guardian, he seemed the proper person to take charge of her affairs.
He tried to begin on this or that, and gave up everything with a groan, wandering out again to the gate on the wood-path to sweep the distances of road or field with hungry, straining eyes. The wildest fears had taken possession of him. Running in his head was a passage from The Confessions, describing Monica's horror of her son's heretical opinions.
Of course it never occurred to him that Monica's demand had a significance which emphasized the name of Barfoot.
"I don't mind my clothes so much, if it weren't so uncomfortable. My dress will wash," said Lindsay. "Mine won't though, I'm sorry to say!" groaned Irene. "I was carrying the cakes, and they're wet through, and not fit to eat," announced Leonard. "The island is a perfect trap," said Meta, trying to squeeze the muddy water from her own dress and Monica's.
All he desired was to be at a distance from that house, with its hideous silence and the faint cry that could scarcely be called a sound. The necessity of returning, of spending days there, was an Oppression which held him like a nightmare. Monica's statement he neither believed nor disbelieved; he simply could not make up his mind about it.
'Settle' hides 'Legacy'," repeated Cicely meditatively. "Why, I see it now!" burst out Lindsay suddenly. "Oh, Cicely, I believe it means a great deal more than an ordinary riddle! It has something to do with the lost treasure. Don't you understand? The settle is hiding the legacy Monica's legacy!" "Oh, surely not!" exclaimed Cicely, bouncing up in great excitement. "But I really think so.
I was obliged to call Mrs. Conisbee But don't think anything about it. It's all over. The weather is very trying She laughed nervously and began to pat Monica's hand. The girl was not quite satisfied, and pressed many questions, but in the end she accepted Virginia's assurances that nothing serious had happened. Then her own business occupied her; she sat down, and said with a smile,
When she had finished her letter the stately lady read it over carefully she had a certain tact, and Hector must be cajoled to return, not irritated. Monica's epistle, in spite of that touch of vulgarity which she had deplored, had held out some grains of comfort. She had been getting really anxious over this affair with the French person.
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