"I have not heard any news yet, Jane," he said. "I came straight to you from the station. Presently I shall go back to astonish Aunt Mary Ann. Why? What about Juliet?"
Jane enlightened him by degrees, giving him one particular after another. Valentine listening in silence to the end.
"But what do you mean? What don't you believe?"
"That Juliet threw herself into the pond. My dear, she is not the kind of girl to do it; she'd no more do such a thing than I should."
"Oh, Val! It is true the drags brought up nothing but eels; but----"
"Of course they didn't. There's nothing but eels there to bring up."
"Then where can Juliet be?--what is the mystery?" dissented Jane. "What became of her?"
"That I don't know. Rely upon it, Janey, she is not there. She'd never jump into that cold pond. How long ago is this?"
"Nearly a month. Three weeks last Thursday."
"Ah," said Valentine. "Well, I'll see if I can get to the bottom of it."
Showing himself indoors to Mr. and Mrs. Preen for a few minutes, Valentine then made his way to Mrs. Cramp's, where he would stay. He knew his mother was away, and her house shut up. Mrs. Cramp, recovering from her surprise, told him he was welcome as the sun in harvest. She had been more grieved when Valentine went wrong than the world suspected.
Seated over the fire, in her comfortable parlour, after supper, Valentine told her his plans. He had come over for one month; could not leave his farm longer; just to shake hands with them all, and to take Jane Preen back with him. That discussed, Mrs. Cramp entered gingerly upon the sad news about Juliet--not having thought well to deluge him with it the moment he came in. Valentine refused to believe it--as he had refused with Jane.
"Bless the boy!" exclaimed Mrs. Cramp, staring. "What on earth makes him say such a thing?"
"Because I am sure of it, Aunt Mary Ann. Fancy strong-minded Juliet throwing herself into an eel pond! She is gadding about somewhere, deep already, I daresay, in another flirtation."
Mrs. Cramp, waiting to collect her scattered senses, shook her head plaintively. "My dear," she said, "I don't pretend to know the fashion of things in the outlandish world in which you live, but over here it couldn't be. Once a girl has been drowned in a pond--whether eel, duck, or carp pond, what matters it?--she can't come to life again and go about flirting."