At times he was even tempted to wish that she had said “No” at once—­and that although he knew that he would have been very surprised and disappointed had she done so.  On the whole he thought that after a period of maidenly hesitation she would say “Yes”; and, having inherited from an acquisitive father a positive, concrete kind of mind, as he trudged along he began ruminating over the question of Bubbles’ marriage settlements.  On one thing he was determined.  Nothing should induce him so to arrange matters that in the event of his death Bubbles should be able to dower some worthless fortune-hunter with his, Tapster’s, wealth!  He felt certain that her father’s solicitors would try and arrange that this might come to pass—­“lawyers are such cunning devils”—­and he grew purple with rage at the thought.

How surprised Donnington would have been could he have looked into his dull companion’s mind!

In addition to Dr. Panton, two other people were really enjoying this uncomfortable walk, for Helen Brabazon and Sir Lyon Dilsford had plenty to say to one another.  It was very seldom that Sir Lyon found a young woman interested in the subjects he himself had most at heart.  He found it a curiously pleasant experience to answer her eager, ignorant questions on sociological and political subjects.  It was clear that Miss Brabazon only regarded herself as the trustee of her vast wealth, and this touched her companion very much.  Also, what had happened yesterday—­that sudden, intimate confession of what had taken place in the hall—­had made their relations to one another much closer.  But neither of them had alluded to it again.

As for Lionel Varick and Bubbles Dunster, they were now lagging some way behind the others.  More than once the girl suggested that she should slip away and go back to Wyndfell Hall alone, but her host would not hear of it.  He declared good-humouredly that soon they would all be homeward bound; so, apathetically, Bubbles walked on, her feet and her head aching.

The old Roman embankment now formed part of the works connected with a big reservoir, and at last the walkers reached a kind of platform from whence they could see, stretching out to their right, a wide, triangular-shaped piece of water.

Blanche Farrow was for turning back; but Helen Brabazon, Sir Lyon, and Varick were all for going on, the more so that Varick declared that at a cottage which formed the apex of the reservoir they would be able to get some tea.  So off they started again, in the same order as before, to find, however, that the narrow brick-way, instead of being drier—­as one would have expected it to be above the water—­was more slushy and slippery than had been the path running along the top of the older part of the embankment.  Yet the steep bank leading down to the sullen, half-frozen surface of the reservoir had been cleared of the grass and bushes which covered the slopes of the rest of the causeway.