"I had hoped he still allowed me my horse's hoofs and my cave--I have been deceiving myself all these years, evidently." A blank look grew in Mrs.Cricklander's eye.

What had caves and horse's hoofs to do with the case?
She had better turn the conversation at once, or she might be out of her depth, she felt; and this she did with her usual skill, but not before the Professor's left eyebrow had run up into his forehead, and his wise old eyes beneath had met and then instantly averted themselves from those of John Derringham.
All the way back to the house Mrs.Cricklander had the satisfaction of listening to a much more advanced admiration of herself than she had hoped to obtain so soon, and arrived in the best of restored humors--for John Derringham had clenched his teeth as he left the orchard house, and had told himself that he would not be influenced or put off by any of these trifling things, and that it was some vixenish turn of Fate to have allowed these currents of disillusion about a woman who was so eminently suitable to reach him through the medium of his old friend.
A strange thing happened to Halcyone that morning.

She had made up her mind to keep away from her usual visit to Cheiron on the Monday and Tuesday when John Derringham had announced he might bring over his hostess to see the Professor.

She did not wish to cause complications with her aunts by making Mrs.Cricklander's acquaintance, and underneath she had some strange reluctance herself.

Her unerring instincts warned her that this woman might in some way trouble her life, but she thought Saturday would be perfectly safe and was preparing to start, when some vague longing came over her to see her goddess.