“It’s rather a case, is it not? First love and an early marriage!”
“If you mean Sophy and young Shafto, why, they haven’t a bad sixpence between them!”
“No?” and Mrs. Maitland looked gravely interrogative.
“Well, perhaps I’ve been incautious—indiscreet—now that I look back.” (Yes, and with a sense of guilt she recalled her talks to both; her praise and her explanations.) “But the fact is that though they have never met till now, I’ve known them both as children, and I could not well avoid bringing them together, but I don’t think there’s any harm done; they are as simple and open as the day. There’s no flirting—they are just enjoying the new surroundings and these golden hours—but I’ll be more careful and put a stop to their after-dinner promenades. I’ll take your hint.”
“I hope it won’t be a case of locking the stable-door when the steed has been stolen.”
“No; but whoever steals Sophy will get a prize—and she does thoroughly enjoy every hour of the day. She is so pretty and transparent and sweet; she makes me think of a lovely flower, floating serenely on a summer river. I expect she will be a great success in Rangoon.”
As there was no immediate answer on the part of Mrs. Maitland, she added quickly:
“Don’t you think so?”
“Well, yes—I hope so; but, you see, Miss Leigh is going to live in rather an odd home.”
“Odd?”