"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 pronounced 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 assuming 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 circumstances," 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.