"Oh, Dick, Dick—my poor little Dick—I hope you will never—never know!" Which poor little Dick could not understand.
Hubert Lepel arrived on the following day. He had not been to Beechfield Hall for some weeks, and he seemed to feel it incumbent upon him to make up to Enid for his long absence by presents and compliments; for he had brought her a beautiful bracelet, and was unusually profuse in his expressions of regard and admiration. And yet Enid seemed scarcely so pleased as a young girl in similar circumstances ought to have seemed. Indeed she shrank a little from private conversation with him, and looked harassed and troubled.
It was perhaps in consequence of this fact that three days after his arrival Hubert sought a private interview with his sister. Flossy had meanwhile not spoken a word; she had been watching and waiting for those three days.
"Florence, I am inclined to think that you were mistaken."
"So am I," thought Flossy to herself; but aloud she only asked, "Why, dear?" with perfect tranquility.
"About Enid. I—I am beginning to think that she doesn't much care." He said the last words slowly, with his eyes on the tip of his boot.
"I am sure you are mistaken," said Flossy quietly. "But she is not demonstrative, and—well, I may as well say it to you—she has taken some idea into her head—something about me—about the past——"
She faltered skilfully; but she kept her eyes on Hubert's face, and saw that it wore a guilty look.
"Well, Flossy, you are right," he said. "She has heard something—village talk, I suppose—and I cannot get her to tell me what it is."