"I don't know what she does," said the General, with a rather ominous growl. "I only know that there were some entanglement—understanding between them—a flirtation I dare say—young men are not always so careful as they ought to be—and perhaps the girl has taken it seriously."
"Poor girl," said Enid softly—"I am very sorry for her!"
"Sorry? Sorry for Westwood's daughter? Enid, you forget what is due to yourself and to your father! Do not speak of her! Forget her; and rest assured that when Hubert is better he will dismiss her with thanks—if thanks are necessary—and that we shall soon see him here at Beechfield again. And, my dear, when he is better, I will put no further obstacle in your way, if you still desire the—the engagement to go on."
"You forget, uncle Richard," said Enid very quietly, "that there was no real engagement."
She had always maintained to herself before that there was one. He looked at her with wonder.
"But, my dear, there was a sort of an understanding, you know; and Flossy always said that you were so fond of each other."
"Flossy did not know," Enid answered coldly. Then she withdrew herself from the General's encircling arm and rose to her feet. "You have not told me yet, uncle," she went on, "what news you had from the doctor this morning."
"Oh, nothing fresh!" said the General, in rather a guilty tone; and then, as she pressed him, he explained further. "You see, my dear child, we thought that this Miss West ought to go away, because none of us can go to see Hubert while she is there—if for no other reason, because she is that man's daughter; and I wrote to the doctor to inquire whether Hubert could not do without her now; and he says, No—that there would be danger of a relapse if she should go."
"Then of course you will say that she must be asked to stay until Hubert is better, uncle."
"Certainly."