Unknown by Unknown

apparently relieved by his lack of success. “Either he’s taken the hint —and he did tell you he realised he wasn’t welcome, Fen. Or else he’s got all the information he wanted about skin-diving and, no doubt as he’d planned all along, has left Fairhaven. Either way, there’s not a sign of him, so there’s no need to feel concerned about Polwyn’s unpleasant manner.”
    And Fenella agreed with him that the matter could be dropped though it had surprised her that she felt a little disappointed in Martin. Anthony might, of course, be quite right in saying that he had gone because he’d learned all he needed to. But somehow the impression she had had that there was something more to his being here than the reason he gave still lingered. And somehow, she hadn’t thought that Martin was the sort of person to give up what he had planned to do quite so easily just because of a nebulous atmosphere of threat.
    However, the last few weeks had really been too busy for her to think of anything but the coming garden-party. She had hardly had time, even, to think about Rosemary’s return and what it might mean.
    Now, suddenly, she was face to face with an utterly unforeseen situation. Here was Rosemary, an entirely different person from the one Fenella had remembered, and Martin, who instead of having finally left the neighbourhood was, on the contrary here, and on an established footing, a friend of the Lancings. She knew that was so because, as Lady Lancing greeted Aunt Gina, she said quietly:
    “So understanding of you, Gina dear, to let us bring Martin! It’s so rarely, these days, that Rosemary seems to enjoy anyone’s company that when she does suggest—”
    “Yes, I quite understand, Eleanor,” Aunt Gina said hurriedly in the same cautious undertone. “And please don’t give it another thought. We’re delighted to have Mr. Adair here! ”
    That brief exchange left Fenella completely unsure of herself, for it made it clear that Aunt Gina had known of Martin’s impending visit and had kept the knowledge to herself. But why? It simply didn’t make sense, for it was so utterly pointless.
    A moment or so later Fenella felt Rosemary’s unresponsive hand touch hers very briefly. Then Aunt Gina was greeting Martin.
    “What a pleasant surprise that you know the Lancings. Mr. Adair! Such old friends of ours. Now, you’ve already met my niece, I believe, but not my nephew, Anthony Trevose. He is a great admirer of your work—” A few more straggling guests to greet and then the party proper began. Mrs. Trevose went off to talk to her guests. Anthony and Martin became immersed in a discussion on sailing boats and finally drifted into the house to settle a point of disagreement. The two girls were left together.
    Fenella, tongue-tied and ill at ease, broke the silence between them with the first remark that came into her head.
    “I didn’t know you knew Mr. Adair,” she blurted out, and saw that Rosemary was faintly amused at what was really an idiotic remark.
    “How could you?” Rosemary asked casually. “I didn’t meet him until after I left Fairhaven.”
    “Oh, I see,” Fenella said hurriedly, and then, remembering Aunt Gina’s remark which Rosemary must have heard, she went on: “I’ve only met him once, by chance, before this afternoon. We happened to meet on the cliff path and walked down to the village together.”
    “Yes?” Rosemary said indifferently, and gave Fenella a casual look that missed nothing from head to heels. ‘You’ve grown into a very pretty girl, Fenella!”
    “Oh, do you think so?” Fenella felt the colour rising to the roots of her hair. She laughed uncertainly. “Well, perhaps I might just get by! But you—you’re absolutely lovely, Rosemary. More so even than I remembered you!”
    Rosemary, showing no sign of either embarrassment or pleasure at the compliment, shrugged her shoulders.
    “Only skin-deep, you know, my dear! And sometimes more of a liability than an