“I shall easily find an opportunity,” he said, “of telling St. George what I have done.  I went through the dining-room and saw the names on the plates, and I took the liberty to change one or two.  You can sit by the curate at any time.  In fact, I should think old friendship and a kind heart might make you prefer to sit by me.  Say that they do, Mrs. Walker.”

“They do,” answered Emily.  “But your reason, John?”

“That little creature is a match-maker.  Why must she needs give me the golden head?”

“Oh, she did?  Perhaps it was because she thought you would expect it.”

“Expect it! I expect it?  No; I am in the blessed case of him who expects nothing, and who therefore cannot be disappointed.  I always thought you were my friends, all of you.”

“So we are, John; you know we are.”

“Then how can you wish such a thing for me?  Emily, you cannot think how utterly tired I am of being teased about that woman—­that lady.  And now St. George has begun to do it.  I declare, if I cannot put a stop to it in any other way, I’ll do it by marrying somebody else.”

“That is indeed a fearful threat, John,” said Emily, “and meant, no doubt, to show that you have reached the last extremity of earnestness.”

“Which is a condition you will never reach,” said John, laughing, and lapsing into the old intimate fashion with her.  “It is always your way to slip into things easily.”

John and Emily had walked on, and believed themselves to be well in front, and out of hearing of the others; but when the right time has come for anything to be found out, what is the use of trying to keep it hidden?  Justina, seeing her opportunity, went forward just as Brandon drew the rest of the party aside to look at some rather rare ferns, whose curled-up fronds, like little crosiers, were showing on the sandy bank.  She drew on, and one more step would have brought her even with them, when John Mortimer uttered the words—­

“If I cannot put a stop to it in any other way, I’ll do it by marrying somebody else.”

Justina stopped and stooped instantly, as if to gather some delicate leaves of silver-weed that grew in the sand; and Emily, who had caught her step, turned for one instant, and saw her without being perceived.

Justina knew what these words meant, and stood still arranging her leaves, to let them pass on and the others come up.  Soon after which they all merged into one group.  John gave his arm to Mrs. Henfrey, and Emily, falling behind, began to consider how much Justina had heard, and what she would do.