or
years. The young people will be so happy together."

Here was news. I offered congratulations.

"Thank you so much," she said. "It is pleasant to know that his future
is provided for. Margaret will make him a good wife. She worships him.
If anything should happen to--ah--disturb the arrangement her heart
would break, I am sure. Of course nothing will happen. I should not
permit it."

I made some comment, I don't remember what. She rose from the bench.

"I have been chatting about family affairs and matchmaking like a
garrulous old woman, haven't I," she observed, smiling. "So silly of me.
You have been charmingly kind to listen, Mr. Knowles. Forgive me, won't
you. Carleton dear is my one interest in life and I talk of him on the
least excuse, or without any. So sorry to have inflicted my garrulity
upon you. I may count upon you entering our invitation golf tournament
next month, may I not? Oh, do say yes. Thank you so much. Au revoir."

She moved off, as imposing and majestic as a frigate under full sail. I
walked slowly toward home, thinking hard.

I should have been flattered, perhaps, at her taking me into confidence
concerning her nephew's matrimonial projects. If I had believed the
"garrulity," as she called it, to have been unintentional, I might have
been flattered. But I did not so believe. I was pretty certain there was
intention in it and that she expected Frances and Hephzy and me to take
it as a warning. Carleton dear was, in her eyes, altogether too friendly
with the youngest tenant in Mayberry rectory. The "garrulity" was a
notice to keep hands off.

I was not incensed at her; she amused me, rather. But with Heathcroft I
was growing more incensed every moment. Engaged to be married, was he!
He and this Warwickshire girl of "fine family" had been "so fond" of
each other for years. Everything was understood, was it? Then what did
he mean by his attentions to Frances, attentions which half of Mayberry
was probably discussing at the moment? The more I considered his conduct
the angrier I became. It was the worst time possible for a meeting with
A. Carleton Heathcroft, and yet meet him I did at the loneliest and most
secluded spot in the hedged lane leading to the lodge gate.

He greeted me cordially enough, if his languid drawl could be called
cordial.

"Ah, Knowles," he said. "Been doing the round I see. A bit stupid by
oneself, I should think. What? Miss Morley and I have been riding. Had a
rip