"I don't want to think about it," said Adela. "But, yes, I'll tell you, if you like. She isn't happy."
"No. I could tell you that," said he.
"But Harry is happy. Lord Semingham, when I see her with him—her sweetness and kindness to him—I wonder."
This time it was Semingham who nodded silent assent.
"And," said Adela, with a glance of what seemed like defiance, "I pray."
"You're a good woman, Adela," said he.
"He sees no change in her, or he sees a change that makes him love her more. Surely, surely, some day, Lord Semingham——?"
She broke off, leaving her hope unexpressed, but a faint smile on her face told of it.
"It may be—some day," he said, as though he hardly hoped. Then, with one of his quick retreats, he took refuge in asking, "Are you happy with your husband, Adela? I hope to goodness you are."
"Perfectly," she answered, with a bright passing smile.