'Abominably ill-mannered,' she cried, growing ruddier than the cherry.
'But had you any notion of it?'
'Impossible!' she said breathlessly. 'He is only kind and civil to her, as he is to everybody. Think how young he is!'
'I'm sure I never thought old Blunderbore much younger than Methuselah. Twenty-one! Isn't it about the age one does such things?'
'Not when one has twelve brothers and sisters on one's back,' sighed Geraldine. 'Poor Felix! No, there can't be anything in it. Don't let us think of foolish nonsense this wonderful day. What a glorious hymn that was!'
Lance laid his head lovingly on the sofa-cushion, and discussed the enjoyment of the day with his skilled appreciation of music. Geraldine's receptive power was not inferior to his own, though she had none of that of expression, nor of the science in which he was trained. He was like another being from the merry rattle he was at other times; and she had more glimpses than she ever had before of the high nature and deep enthusiasm that were growing in him.
'Hark! there's somebody coming,' she cried, starting.
'Let him come. Oh, it is the Pater.—Here is some capital tea, Mr. Harewood. Have some? I'll get a cup.'
'You are taking care of your sister. That is right. A good colonist you would make.—Come in, Lee,' said Mr. Harewood, who, to Cherry's increased consternation, was followed by another clergyman. 'We are better off than I dared to expect, thanks to this young gentleman. Miss Geraldine Underwood—Mr. Lee.—You knew her father, I think.'
'Not poor Underwood of Bexley? Indeed! I knew him. I always wished I could have seen more of him,' said Mr. Lee, coming up and heartily shaking hands with Cherry, and asking whether she was staying there, &c.