But Fanny insisted that he had seen Philippa carrying Furnival off under Molly Milner's innocent nose, and that her manner of appropriating him, too, vividly recalled the evening of her arrival two years ago, when he would remember what had happened to poor Nora's nose.
"My dear Fanny, that was an act of the highest moral----"
"Don't talk to me about your highest moral anything. _I_ know what it was."
"Besides, she didn't take him from Nora," she went on, ignoring her previous line of argument. "He took himself. He was getting tired of her."
"Well," said Straker, "he isn't tired of Miss Milner."
"She's taken him off _there_," said Fanny. She nodded gloomily toward the Amberley woods.
Straker smiled. He was looking westward over the shining fields where he had once walked with Philippa. Already they were returning. Furnival had not allowed himself to be taken very far. As they approached Straker saw that Philippa was pouring herself out at Furnival and that Furnival was not absorbing any of it; he was absorbed in his Idea. His Idea had made him absolutely impervious to Philippa. All this Straker saw.
He made himself very attentive to Miss Tarrant that evening, and after dinner, at her request, he walked with her on the terrace. Over the low wall they could see Furnival in the rose garden with Miss Milner. They saw him give her a rose, which the young girl pinned in the bosom of her gown.
"Aren't they wonderful?" said Philippa. "Did you ever see anything under heaven so young?"
"Do you remember when he wanted to give _me_ one and I wouldn't take it?"
The lovers wandered on down the rose garden and Philippa looked after them. Then she turned to Straker.
"I've had a long talk with him. I've told him that he must settle down and that he couldn't do a better thing for himself than----"
"Well," said Straker, "it _looks_ like it, doesn't it?"
"Yes," said Philippa. "It looks like it."
"I am going," she said presently, "to ask Miss Milner to stay with me."
Straker didn't respond. He was thinking deeply. Her face was so mysterious, so ominous, that yet again he wondered what she might be up to. He confessed to himself that this time he didn't know. But he made her promise to go on the river with him the next day. They were to start at eleven-thirty.