But Agatha thought it would be betraying confidence to “set on the dragon”; and besides nobody ever could tell how much Vera’s descriptions meant. She knew already that the sweetest countenance in the world and the loveliest dark eyes belonged to a fairly good-looking young man, and she could also suspect that the “squeeze of my hand” might be an ordinary shake, and the kneeling before the one he loved best might have been only the customary forfeit. On the whole, it would be better to let things take their course; it was not likely that either was seriously smitten, and it was more than probable that Hubert Delrio would be too busy to look after a young lady now in a different stratum, and that Vera would have found another sweetest countenance in the world.
All this passed through her mind while Magdalen listened, and pronounced—
“That is brilliant—a clever touch—only—”
“Yes, that is Vera—I know what you are noticing, but this is only amusement; she is not taking pains.”
“It is very clever—especially as probably she has no music. But there—”
“Polly’s? Oh, yes; she is really steady-going. That is just what you will find her. This is a charming room, sister; thank you very much.”
“Make it your home, my dear.”
But in reality they were not much nearer together than before the conference.
CHAPTER VII—SISTER AND SISTERS
“Have we not all, amid earth’s petty strife,
Some pure ideal of a nobler life?
We lost it in the daily jar and fact,
And now live idly in a vain regret.”Adelaide Procter.