He made no answer, but listened. I quoted something she had said about Yorkshire dales, and then I said how delightful she was, and that I didn't think I had ever seen anybody like her anywhere else. There would have been no harm, if I had said it all quite naturally, and with no thought behind of how he was feeling,—but I had the thought behind, so I could not depend on myself to be perfectly natural.
He heard me, exactly as if I had been speaking of a stranger, and as if he didn't care the very least. When I stopped, he said, "Indeed!" as coldly as possible: and I was so disappointed, I felt myself turn crimson. He gave me a glance, and I grew hotter still, and he turned his eyes away, and made some careless remark about the weather. Then somebody on his other side began to talk to him: and I was very uncomfortable. I couldn't think what he must have thought.
I have told Mother all this, and she says it is far wiser to leave things alone, and not to interfere. One is so apt to blunder. So I shall take very great care in the future, and never speak of anything of that sort, unless somebody else begins it.
Mother is not so sure as I was at first that his looking cold and grave, when he heard her name, proves him not to care at all. She says we can't possibly judge, as we don't in the least know the real facts of the case.
August 15. Saturday.—Only think!—We had quite a long call from Captain Lenox this afternoon. I felt shy at seeing him again, but he seemed to have for all about my awkwardness. So I hope it didn't look so bad as it felt.
He said he had found that Mother once knew an uncle of his, so he thought he might call. But I don't believe that was his real reason. For the uncle was not talked about at all, after the first moment. He is staying at The Park till Monday, and then he goes north for the rest of his furlough,—into Yorkshire. I don't know what part. It seems that Lady Denham and Sir Keith may go there soon, and they have actually secured some lodgings, and are paying for them. And Captain Lenox is to use these lodgings for as long as he likes.
Mother and I wonder where the lodgings are, for he did not tell us. But we asked no questions, and, as Mother says, we must not ask the Denhams. For it is not our business; and as they said nothing yesterday, they most likely don't wish us to know.
I had made up my mind not to say one word about Miss Conway; and then, just out of sheer nervousness and shyness, I found myself letting slip something about her, at least three times. I was so provoked; and Mother says I really must learn to have myself better in hand. Not that any harm was done; but one never ought to be drawn into saying a thing which one has resolved not to say.
I noticed that each time I said "Miss Conway," Captain Lenox turned half towards me, and then looked at Mother in a quiet polite way, as if he were asking about her. But nobody could have guessed from his manner whether he felt anything more than just a passing interest in a stranger. And he scarcely said a word himself, when her name came up. He only seemed to expect Mother to say something.
Mother managed beautifully,—so much better than I could. She didn't blush or look conscious, but she spoke of Miss Conway as a friend of Mrs. Romilly's and of ours too. We found that he had once seen Mrs. Romilly for five minutes,—he didn't say where or when,—and that he thought her "a beautiful woman." I am sure I don't think her so. But then Miss Conway does; and to my surprise Mother said so. And I had to slide my chair back, for fear Captain Lenox should see what I was thinking.