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Updated: June 9, 2025
But she could not help looking over from time to time to the next butt, round which three other people were wandering: Sir David Southern, and his loader, and Miss Maisie Tarver, to whom he was engaged to be married.
It was dreadful, yes, and shameful that anyone else should think for a moment that David could be capable of such a deed, but in Miss Tarver, perhaps, the thought had not been inexcusable. On the whole, it was so nice of her to break the engagement that she might be forgiven the ridiculous reason she had advanced for doing it.
Clutsam seemed about to speak, but her eyes met those of Lady Ruth fixed on her with an expressionless gaze, and she turned round without a word and took up her discarded pen. They were both thinking the same thing. If David concealed his feelings in the presence of Miss Tarver he was not so successful when he was in Juliet's neighbourhood.
Moses smoked through a pipe in silence, so as to give full consideration; then said, like an easy-going old boy as he was: "You might do worse, Dave. I can clear out, any minute. You've only got to sing out." To which his brother had replied: "Don't you talk of clearing out, not till Miss Tarver she tells you."
He was then taken in by his brother, recently a widower; and no question had ever arisen of his quitting the haven he had been, as it were, towed into as a derelict; until, some years later, David announced that he was thinking of Dolly Tarver at Ealing.
Especially, she told herself with unnecessary emphasis, did she think Miss Maisie Tarver a delightful person; rather strange, possibly, to European ways and customs and manner of conversation, a very different type, certainly, from the new Lady Byrne to whom Juliet was beginning to feel she had perhaps not hitherto sufficiently done justice but open as the day, and with a heart of gold.
She even went so far as to defend her to old Lady Ruth Worsfold, who had lamented one morning when David and his fiancee had gone out shooting together for Miss Tarver, though not a good shot, was fond of ferreting rabbits that the lad should be throwing himself away on this young lady from a provincial American town. "I forget which, my dear, but it's something to do with chickens, I believe."
"Oh, surely you are wrong," cried Juliet. "I am certain Sir David has never thought about your money. Oh, I feel sure you misjudge him; and you mustn't talk like that, even in fun!" "I don't know," said Miss Tarver doubtfully.
What had Miss Tarver to do with it?" "Sir David Southern was engaged to marry her. She has thrown him over now," said Juliet, and in spite of herself there was a trace of elation in her voice. "As soon as Sir David was suspected of the murder she broke off the engagement."
Clutsam had caught him looking at her when he thought himself unobserved, and their observations had not left either of them in any doubt as to how the land lay. Sir David Southern might be engaged to marry Miss Tarver, but he had fallen in love with some one quite different, and some one who was, moreover, or so they imagined, destined for quite another person.
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