"Did it refer to matters in which you suppose she took an affectionate interest?"
"Yes, Felix."
"And did she answer you, sir?"
"By signs, Felix, not by words. You must be content with this."
Felix asked no more questions, but after he bade the old man good-night, thought much of the events of the past few hours.
"How much hidden good there is in the world!" he mused. "What a sweet lesson is contained in the life of this dear girl! She has a secret. Ah, if that secret concerns me, and I can win her heart! But how dare I think of it--I, without a nest to take my bird to? Ah, if I could build a nest!"
[CHAPTER XXIII.]
THE COMMENCEMENT OF A HAPPY DAY.
A mother could not have watched her only child with more jealous devotion than that with which Old Wheels watched his darling Lily. He could not bear her out of his sight; he even begrudged the time she gave to Alfred; for Lily clung to her brother, and seemed to have discovered a new bond of affection to bind them closer to each other. Beset as he was with doubts and fears, Old Wheels found a fresh cause for disturbance in this circumstance; and he was not successful in hiding his disturbance from Alfred, who showed his consciousness of it in a certain defiant fashion, which gave his grandfather inexpressible pain. But the old man bore with this without open repining; he gave all his love to Lily, and he blamed himself for the jealous feeling he bore to Alfred. He strove against it, but he could not weaken it, and he could only watch and wait. In the mean time Lily, to his eyes, was growing thinner and paler. He spoke to Gribble junior about it.
"Don't you think Lily is not looking so well as she did?"