The Vision of Desire Part 18

"No, I don't know anything about her. But Hilyard's a fairly common name."

"Yes, I suppose it's fairly common," agreed Coventry slowly.

As though to dismiss the topic, he returned to the matter of the repairs required on Sparkes' farm, and for a few minutes the two men were engrossed in details connected with the management of the estate. But Ann noticed that Coventry seemed curiously abstracted. He allowed his cigarette to smoulder between his fingers till it went out beneath their pressure, and presently, bringing the discussion with Robin to a sudden close, he got up to go. He tendered his farewell somewhat abruptly, mounted his horse, which had been standing tethered to the gateway by its bridle, and rode away at a hand-gallop.

Ann made no comment at the time, as Robin seemed rather preoccupied with estate matters, but over dinner in the evening she broached the subject upon which she had been exercising her mind at intervals throughout the day.

"Robin, did you notice Mr. Coventry's expression when you mentioned Mrs.

Hilyard?"

Robin looked up doubtfully from one of Maria's beautifully grilled cutlets.

"His expression? No, I don't think I was looking at him particularly. He thought she was called Hilton, or something, didn't he?"

Ann went off into a small gale of laughter.

"Does a man ever notice anything unless it's right under his nose?" she demanded dramatically of the universe at large. "My dear," she went on, "his face altered the instant you mentioned Mrs. Hilyard's name."

"Well, but why should it?" demanded Robin, still at sea.

"I think," she p.r.o.nounced oracularly, "that _a_ Mrs. Hilyard must have played a rather important part in Mr. Coventry's life at one time or another."

"Well, it's no business of ours if she did," responded Robin unsympathetically.

"No. But it would be queer if the Mrs. Hilyard who's bought the Priory happened to be the other Mrs. Hilyard--the one Mr. Coventry knew before."

"We've no grounds for a.s.suming that he ever knew a Mrs. Hilyard at all, and if he did--as I said before, it's no business of ours."

There never was a real woman yet who failed to be intrigued by the suggestion of a romance lying dormant in the past life of a man of her acquaintance, and Ann was far too essentially feminine to pretend that her interest was not piqued.

"No, of course it's no business of ours," she agreed. "But still, one may take an intelligent interest in one's fellow beings, I suppose."

"It depends upon circ.u.mstances," replied Robin. "I'm here as Coventry's agent, and my employer's private affairs are no concern of mine."

There was just a suspicion of the "elder brother" in his manner--only a suspicion, but it was quite sufficient to arouse all the latent contrariety of woman which Ann possessed.

"Well, Mrs. Hilyard isn't your employer," she retorted. "So I've a perfect right to feel interested in her."

"But not in her relation to Mr. Coventry," maintained Robin seriously.

The corners of Ann's mouth curled up in a mutinous smile, and her eyes danced.

"My dear Robin, you can't insulate a woman as you can an electric wire--at least, not if she has any pretensions to good looks."

"No, I suppose you can't," he admitted, smiling back unwillingly. "More's the pity, sometimes!"

There, for the moment, the subject dropped, but the imp of mischief still flickered defiantly in the golden-brown eyes, and when, after dinner was over, Maria brought in the coffee, Ann threw out a tentative remark which instantly achieved its nefarious purpose of loosening the springs of Maria's garrulity.

"They be telling up a tale in the village about the new lady as has taken the Priory," began Maria conversationally.

Ann sugared her coffee with an air of detachment, and watched Robin fidgeting out of the tail of her eye.

"You shouldn't listen to gossip, Maria," she reprimanded primly.

"Well, miss, 'tis true folks say you shouldn't believe all you hear, and 'tis early days to speak, seeing she's scarcely into her house yet, as you may say."

"You give me an uncomfortable feeling that she spent the night on the doorstep," observed Ann.

"Oh, no, miss," replied Maria, matter-of-factly. "She slept in her bed all right last night. But maybe, for all that, it's true what folks are saying," she added darkly. "I'd run out of sugar, so I just stepped round to the grocer this evening after tea, and he told me 'twas all the tale in the village that this Mrs. Hilyard isn't a widow at all, and some of them think she's no better than she should be."

An e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n of annoyance broke from Robin.

"The t.i.ttle-tattle in these twopenny-halfpenny villages is almost past believing!" he exclaimed angrily. "Here's an absolute new-comer arrives in the district, and they've begun taking away the poor woman's character already."

"Well, sir, of course I'm only speaking what I hear," replied Maria, who, with all her good points--and they were many--had the true West Country relish for any t.i.tbit of gossip, whether with or without foundation. "Let's hope 'tisn't true. But they say her clothes do be good enough for the highest lady in the land. Mrs. Thorowgood--her that's been helping up to the Priory all day--called in on her way home just to pa.s.s the time of day with me. It seems Mrs. Hilyard has arranged she shall wash for her, and she was taking a few of her things home with her for to wash to-morrow. And she told me her own self, did Mrs. Thorowgood, that the lace on them be so fine as spider's web."

Ann endeavoured to conceal her mirth and reply with becoming gravity.

"Maria, dear, if a disreputable character is considered inseparable from pretty undies in Silverquay, I'm afraid I shall get as bad a reputation as Mrs. Hilyard," she suggested meekly.

"You, miss?" Maria's loyalty rose in wrathful protest. "And who _should_ have good things if 'tisn't you, I'd like to know? 'Twouldn't be fitting for any Miss Lovell of Lovell Court to have things that wasn't of the very best. And as to telling up little old tales--there'll be no tales told about you, nor Mr. Robin neither, so long as I'm in Silverquay. I'll see to that!"

Thoroughly devoted, illogical, and belligerent, Maria picked up the coffee tray and stalked out of the room, leaving Ann and Robin convulsed with laughter.

CHAPTER XI

THE LADY FROM THE PRIORY

Bang! The noise of the explosion reverberated through the clear summer air, and Ann, returning home from the village by way of a short cut through the woods, smiled to herself as she heard it. She knew that sound--the staccato percussion of a burst tyre--only too well.

The main road ran parallel with the woods, and, impelled by a friendly curiosity to know if she could be of any help, she branched off at right angles and turned her steps in its direction. As she approached she could discern between the tree-trunks a car, slewed round half across the road, and the figure of a woman standing beside it and bending over one of the wheels. Her very att.i.tude betokened a certain helplessness and inexperience, and, seeing that she was alone, Ann quickened her pace.

"Can I help you at all?" she volunteered, as she reached the roadside.

The woman straightened herself.

"Oh, if you would!" she exclaimed, with obvious relief. "My tyre's burst, and I'm ashamed to confess I haven't the faintest idea what to do."

Ann regarded her with interest. She was past her first girlhood, a woman of about thirty, and unusually beautiful. Even more beautiful now, perhaps, than she had been in earlier days, since, in taking the first freshness and bloom of youth, the years had given in exchange an arresting quality which is only born of suffering and experience--adding a deeper depth to her eyes, a certain strength of endurance to the exquisitely moulded mouth.

Silky dark hair curved back beneath her close-fitting hat like a raven's wing, sheathing her small, fine head. There was the same silky darkness, too, of brow and lashes, and when she lifted her long-fringed lids they revealed a pair of sad and very lovely eyes, the colour of a purple pansy.

"It was foolish of me to come out alone," she pursued, as Ann proceeded in a business-like fas.h.i.+on to investigate the damage. "I've learned how to drive, but I know nothing at all about repairs, or tow to put on a new tyre or stepney or anything."

"Well, the first thing to do is to pull the car out of the middle of the road," returned Ann practically. "Then we'll have to jack her up."