“There’s room for Toppie,” said Giles coldly; and then, perhaps, Aunt Bella remembered that he had a special feeling about Toppie, for she desisted.
“I didn’t know Toppie’s father was so ill,” Alix said to Giles when he and she were for a little while alone in the drawing-room, Aunt Bella engaged on the telephone in the hall. “I had only one letter from her, from Bournemouth, and it did not lead me to think he was so seriously ill.”
“I’m afraid he is. She didn’t realize it then, perhaps. I’m afraid it’s only a question of time now,” said Giles, sunk in a deep chair and watching her while she pretended to play with Blaise. Was it grief, anxiety about Toppie, that had wrought the change in him? It had to do with Toppie she felt sure; but had it to do with her as well? Aunt Bella still issued directions on the telephone and Alix felt suddenly that she must ask him.
“Giles,” she said, not looking up from Blaise, who made soft onslaughts at her hand, “does Toppie know?”
“Know?” His echo had the strangest reverberations.
“About Captain Owen is what I mean;—that he cared so much for Maman.” She looked down at Blaise and moved her knotted handkerchief before his nose; and she felt the colour rising in her face.
Perhaps it was because he felt her confusion and shared it that he had to pause before replying. “Of course she doesn’t know,” he then said very gently.
“And you will not forget what you promised me?”
“What did I promise you?”
“That if she did know she would still want me back.”