Nora had a tolerably quick sense of humor, and, notwithstanding the shock it gave her to hear such things of Mr. Graeme, she could hardly resist a smile at what seemed to her the curiously inappropriate epithet of "a wolf in sheep's clothing," applied to the altruistic young reformer. It occurred to her that the metaphor might, in his case, be reversed—that "a sheep in wolf's clothing" would surely be more appropriate.
"What are you two looking so serious about?" asked Kitty, teasingly, as they all rose to adjourn into the drawing room. Then, as she linked her arm into Nora's, and drew her away into a quiet corner, she added, "I've been watching you both for some time, and I really thought Mr Chillingworth must be proposing! He was talking in such a low voice, and looking so irresistible. Only I suppose people don't usually propose at luncheons."
"Kitty!" exclaimed Nora, with reproachful severity.
"Well, you know very well he likes you, one always does!" she added, somewhat obscurely.
"I should be sorry to think he disliked me," replied Nora. "But he was only proposing—that I should sing in the quartette, at his Service of Song on Christmas evening, in some one else's place."
"Which, of course, you promised to do, like a dear."
"Which I can't possibly do, as I have promised to be elsewhere."
"Oh, poor Mr. Chillingworth! No wonder he looked so sad and serious! Oh, don't you know, I've always thought his eyes had a sort of melancholy look, as if he had had some great sorrow in his life? Well, Miss Harley says she is almost sure that she once heard him preach in England, and that she heard some tragic story about him, she couldn't remember exactly what, only she knew it was very sad!"
"Really!" exclaimed Nora, looking much interested.
"Yes, and do you know, I've always had an idea—a sort of instinct you know—that he may be a widower. He has that sort of look, some way!"