'My dear child!'
'I believe he likes someone else better.'
'This is nonsense, Hyacinth. A mere lovers' quarrel. Of course, you must make it up at once. He's devoted to you. Who could help it?'
She broke down.
'Oh, Charles, I'm so unhappy.'
Sir Charles felt furious indignation at the idea that any man could cause those tears to flow. He put his arm round her as if she had been a child.
'My dear Hyacinth, don't be foolish. This is not serious; it can't be.' He had known her intimately since she was ten and had never seen her cry before.
The old tenderness surged up in his heart.
'Can I do anything, dear?'
'No, no, Charles. I should die if he knew I had told you!'