'I would do anything to see you happy again,' he said. 'You know that.'
She looked up. There is a tone in the accents of genuine love that nothing can simulate. She was touched.
'Look here, Hyacinth, promise me to do nothing without letting me know.'
'I promise, Charles.'
'And I assure you that everything will come right. I know—I've had a little experience of the world. Won't you trust my judgement?'
'I'll try. You are a comfort, Charles.'
'And to think that I came to you for consolation!' he said. 'Well, Hyacinth, I shall bury this—forget all about it. Next time I see you you'll be beaming again. It's a passing cloud. Now, what do you think I've got to do? I've got to go home and fetch Janet to go to a meeting of the Dante Society at Broadwater House.'
'Good gracious! What on earth does Aunt Janet know about Dante?'
'Nothing, indeed. I believe she thinks he wrote a poem called "Petrarch
and Laura." But someone told her it's the right thing to do; and when
Janet thinks anything is the right thing—!' He took his hat and stick.
'Try and forgive Cecil. I'm sure he adores you. We all do.'
'Thanks, Charles. And I do hope Aunt Janet won't be wearing her green bonnet this afternoon.'