“Do you like any one else, Owen, come?” “I like the parson, and the schoolmaster, and Tom Hogben.” “Well, well, well!” throwing herself back, “I see you won’t give me your confidence! I am positively certain there is some one in Ottinge you like much better than the parson and the schoolmaster--or even Miss Susan.” “I swear there is not,” he answered, boldly confronting her. (Aurea was not in Ottinge, but visiting her rich London relatives, doing a bit of the season with, to borrow the native term, “Mrs. General Morven.”) Leila was puzzled. Owen, she knew, was a hopelessly bad liar, and his face looked innocence itself. “I’ve got a box for the theatre here--a company on tour. We may as well go--you can sit in the back,” she said, rising. “All right; it’s to be hoped none of the Ottinge folk will be there, and spot me!” “Not they! Don’t you know your Ottinge by this time? Is it likely that any one of them would come all this way to see a mere play?” “Miss Susan might, she loves an outing and any little bit of amusement; but she’s not at home, and if she was, she would not get the use of the motor.” “The theatre is only across the square--it’s quite near, so we may as well walk;” and they did. Lady Kesters in a high black dress, her brother in a dark suit, passed unnoticed among the crowd, and enjoyed the entertainment. The next morning Lady Kesters left Brodfield by the ten o’clock train for London, having previously inspected the celebrated green gem at the garage. She even got into it, examined it critically, and laughed as she descended. “Oh, what a take in! What a shame to have cheated those poor old women! Why, Owen, I believe it must be years and years old!” “And a bad machine always; strong when you want it to be weak, and weak when it should be strong. Some of these days it will play me a trick, I’m sure.” “What, that old bone-shaker! No, no. Well, I’m afraid you must soon be starting--as you say Miss Parrett awaits you, watch in hand--and so must I. It’s been awfully good to see you, and find you are getting on so well--‘a chauffeur almost to the manner born.’ Martin takes a profound interest in our enterprise.” “He keeps me supplied with lots of tobacco and A1 cigars. Tell him that Miss Susan asked me if I got them in the village? and Miss Parrett, who is as sharp as a razor, inquired how I could _afford_ to buy them? I ventured to offer a couple to the doctor--I told him they were a present; he took them like a lamb, and asked no questions.” “What! does a lamb smoke? Well, I’ll tell Martin how much his offerings are appreciated, and that you really are fit--and quite happy, eh?” “Yes, tell him that neither of you need worry about me; I’m all right at Ottinge.” But when, an hour later, Lady Kesters gazed meditatively on the flying Midlands, with her thoughts concentrated upon her brother, she was by no means so sure, that he _was_ all right at Ottinge! CHAPTER XVIII THE REASON WHY