burglar," said the other woman vaguely. "Such nonsense, for I'm sure no
burglar would enter a house filled with nothing but Early Victorian
furniture."

"Well? Well? Well?" said Mrs. Belgrove impatiently.

"Clara Beeby thought that Garvington meant to shoot Noel."

"Why, in heaven's name! Because Noel is his heir?"

"I'm sure I can't help it if I've no children," said Lady Garvington,
going off on another trail--the one suggested by Mrs. Belgrove's remark.
"I'd be a happier woman if I had something else to attend to than
dinners. I wish we all lived on roots, so that Garvington could dig them
up for himself."

"My dear, he'd send you out with a trowel to do that," said Mrs.
Belgrove humorously. "But why does Garvington want to shoot Noel?"

"Oh, he doesn't. I never said he did. Clara Greeby made the remark. You
see, Noel loved Agnes before she married Hubert, and I believe he loves
her still, which isn't right, seeing she's married, and isn't half so
good-looking as she was. And Noel stopping at that cottage in the
Abbot's Wood painting in water-colors. I think he is, but I'm not sure
if it isn't in oils, and the--"

"Well? Well? Well?" asked Mrs. Belgrove again.

"It isn't well at all, when you think what a tongue Clara Greeby has,"
snapped Lady Garvington. "She said if Noel came to see Agnes by night,