CHAPTER XLII.
Enid's conscience was not at rest. During her interviews with Mr. Evandale she was inclined to think that he knew everything, understood everything—even the difference between right and wrong—better than she herself knew and understood it; but when he was away her heart failed her. What if Hubert cared for her all the time? Would she not then be doing him a grievous wrong by forgetting that she had promised to marry him when she was twenty-one? The General's opposition to her engagement would probably vanish like a dream when she was a little older, if she and Hubert showed any inclination to each other. There was no real reason why they should not marry; and Hubert knew that. And what would he say when he heard that she had weakly fallen in love with another man, and wanted to break her word to himself?
Enid shrank back and blushed with shame at the prospect before her. It was all very well for Maurice to say that she must not sacrifice herself; but was it not a woman's duty to sacrifice herself for the good of others? She said so to Maurice; and his answer was very ready.
"For the good of others? But do you think it is for Hubert's good to marry a woman who does not love him, and especially if it is a woman whom he does not love?"
"Ah, if I could only be sure of that!" sighed Enid.
She was not long left in doubt. The General could not keep a secret; and, as soon as he and his wife returned to Beechfield, Enid felt that something was wrong—something which concerned herself. Flossy was very quiet; she eyed Enid strangely once or twice, but she did not tell her about the events of the past week. It was the General who sighed over her, petted her, kissed her at unusual times, and looked at her with an air of pity that the girl found almost intolerable. After three or four days of it, she broke through her usual rule of reserve, and asked Flossy what the General meant.
"You had better ask him," said Mrs. Vane, arching her delicate brows.