Afterwards came the rector and Miss Caroline, and
even Mrs. Carberry, a somewhat consequential dame whose husband was Master
of the Heronsfoot Foxhounds, and who had hitherto held rather aloof from
anything approaching intimacy and merely paid a stately first call on the
Cottage people, unbent sufficiently to take tea informally with the
invalid.
She did not, however, bring her daughter, a girl of Ann's own age, with
her. A shrewd, rather calculating woman, she had fully recognised the
possible attraction that might lie in Robin's steady, grey-green eyes. And
since her plans for her daughter's future most certainly did not include
marriage with any one so unimportant--and probably hard up--as a young
estate agent, she judged it wiser to run no risks. She extracted from Ann
a full, true, and particular account of her bathing adventure, and the
information that it had been the owner of Heronsmere who had come to the
rescue did not appear to afford her much pleasure.
"He's not here this afternoon?" She glanced quickly round the party of
friends who had gathered in the pretty, low-ceiled room. "But I suppose he
has called already to make sure that you're safe and sound?" There was a
kind of acrid sweetness in her tones.
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