“What time was that?” interrupted the Coroner. “About a quarter past four. We talked for about three-quarters of an hour and then I went back to Galston and Mr. Leslie walked away through the copse in the direction of Besley.” “Good girl,” murmured Kean in Fayre’s ear. “She’s got her wits about her.” “You are sure you noticed the direction in which Mr. Leslie went?” “Quite sure. After I had gone a few yards I turned round, meaning to say something to him, but he was walking so quickly that I gave up the idea. He was going in the opposite direction to the farm then.” The Coroner leaned forward. “You were not on friendly terms with Mr. Leslie when you parted, I understand?” “I was furious with him at the moment and I expect he loathed me. I got over it almost at once. That’s why I turned round, meaning to call to him.” “You considered that he had treated you badly?” “It wasn’t that, exactly. I was angry because he would go on trying to treat me too well, or at least what he thought was well. I didn’t agree with him and lost my temper. He’d got into his head that because he’d no prospects and couldn’t marry for a long time he was putting me in a false position and that he ought to break off the engagement.” “Was this the first time he had made the suggestion to break off the engagement?” “O dear, no. He began worrying about it ten minutes after we first became engaged.” A ripple of nervous laughter ran through the court and the Jury, who had pricked up their ears at the Coroner’s question, relapsed into somewhat amused languor. “Was it an old argument between you?” “Oh, yes. That’s why I was annoyed. We’d had it out so often that I was tired of the subject.” “So that, when Mr. Leslie wished to break off the engagement, you refused and held him to it?” The colour flooded Cynthia’s cheeks, but she was too wise to take offense at the suggestion. She looked at the Coroner with disarming frankness. “He didn’t wish to break off the engagement. That was why the whole argument was so silly. He went on suggesting it simply from a sense of duty. I shouldn’t have held him to his word if I’d thought he wanted to go.” “Was he more insistent than usual on this occasion?” “No. He didn’t have time. I lost my temper almost at once.” “Are you sure that the presence of Mrs. Draycott in the neighbourhood was not one of the causes of this quarrel?” “Perfectly certain. I had never heard of Mrs. Draycott. Miss Allen told me her sister was coming and asked me to meet her at dinner that night, but I didn’t know then that that was her name.” “Had you never heard her name coupled with that of Mr. Leslie?” “Never.” Lady Cynthia was the last witness. She returned to her seat, her head held high and her cheeks flaming, but she had done better work than she knew, for her gallant bearing had won the sympathy, not only of the spectators, but of the Jury, two of whom were her father’s tenants and had known her since childhood.