The Slanderers by Warwick Deeping

MAJOR MALTRAVERS had taken a "hunting-box" early in the year in perilous proximity to Gabingly Castle. Maltravers had remained a god above the clouds through the autumn and early winter, both for expediency's sake and to prevent any unnecessary linking-up of incidents. His name had not appeared in the cause of justice, for Gabriel's undefended suit had led to no ransacking of evidence on Ophelia's side. The soldier had soon become popular in the neighborhood, and he was even formally introduced to Ophelia on the hunting-field by Miss Mabel Saker, who posed as a mutual friend. Maltravers, being an excellent horseman and a good man at the flask, had soon won the esteem of the "young bloods" of the neighborhood. His keen, jockey-like face and trim, tailor-made figure were to the fore in many a gusty gallop, and his voice rang as clear as the huntsman's horn.

Ophelia had ridden to many a meet, sitting her thoroughbred like a queen, and staring full in the whole world's face. There was no wavering of her vivid eyes, no tinge of discomfort upon her cheeks. Had she not been proved an honest woman, one who had been wronged and whom the law had righted? A fair dame she seemed with her coat buttoned tight over her smooth, full bust, her rich hair closely plaited under her hat. Men saw that Maltravers was often beside her, twirling his mustachios, staring in her face. Her friends whispered that she would soon be comforted for the loss of a husband and a home.