Oh, yes."
"Anne, he is attractive.
If you don't want him, do, do, do hand him over to me!"
"Don't be absurd, Rhoda.
He doesn't care tuppence for me."
"Then why does he keep on turning up?
Of course, he's keen on you.
You're just the sort of distressed damsel that he'd enjoy rescuing. You look so beautifully helpless, Anne."
"He's equally pleasant to both of us."
"That's only his niceness.
But if you don't want him, I could do the sympathetic friend act - console his broken heart, and in the end I might get him, who knows?" Rhoda concluded inelegantly.
"I'm sure you're quite welcome to him, my dear," said Anne, laughing.
"He's got such a lovely back to his neck," sighed Rhoda.
"Very brick red and muscular."
"Darling, must you be so mawkish?"
"Do you like him, Anne?"
"Yes, very much."
"Aren't we prim and sedate?
I think he likes me a little - not as much as you, but a little."
"Oh, but he does like you," said Anne. Again there was an unusual note in her voice, but Rhoda did not hear it.
"What time is our sleuth coming?" she asked.
"Twelve," said Anne. She was silent for a minute or two, then she said, "It's only half-past ten now.
Let's go out on the river."
"But isn't - didn't - didn't Despard say he'd come round about eleven?"
"Why should we wait in for him?
We can leave a message with Mrs. Astwell which way we've gone and he can follow us along the towpath."
"In fact, don't make yourself cheap, dear, as Mother always said!" laughed Rhoda. "Come on, then."
She went out of the room and through the garden door.
Anne followed her.
Major Despard called at Wendon Cottage about ten minutes later.
He was before his time, he knew, so was a little surprised to find both girls had already gone out.
He went through the garden and across the fields and turned to the right along the towpath.
Mrs. Astwell remained a minute or two looking after him instead of getting on with her morning chores.
"Sweet on one or other of 'em, he is," she observed to herself. "I think it's Miss Anne, but I'm not certain.
He don't give away much by his face.
Treats 'em both alike.
I'm not sure they ain't both sweet on him, too.
If so, they won't be such dear friends so much longer.
Nothing like a gentleman for coming between two young ladies."
Pleasurably excited by the prospect of assisting at a budding romance, Mrs. Astwell turned indoors to her task of washing up the breakfast things, when once again the doorbell rang.
"Drat that door," said Mrs. Astwell. "Do it on purpose, they do.
Parcel, I suppose.
Or might be a telegram."
She moved slowly to the front door.
Two gentlemen stood there, a small foreign gentleman and an exceedingly English, big burly gentleman.
The latter she had seen before, she remembered.
"Miss Meredith at home?" asked the big man.
Mrs. Astwell shook her head.
"Just gone out."
"Really?