'You will only think the worse of me for not believing in the deeper feelings,' said Robina; 'but indeed, I think I know Angela.'
'How odd it is! Then it is true that elder sisters never can do younger ones justice!' said Lady Caergwent, looking at Robin in a meditative kind of philosophical way, which made her laugh, and say, 'There, it is no use to say anything!'
'I would not, but that I am going away; and I want you to promise that if—if you see that any scruples hinder her happiness, you would tell her how entire all that is at an end.'
'If I do,' said Robina, much pitying, but much diverted at the romance that could ascribe either forbearance or self-sacrifice to Angela.
'He comes here, doesn't he?'
'He came down last summer, but I saw no symptoms of anything—to signify,' added her conscience; 'in fact, I think he prefers Cherry.'
'I hope,' said poor Lady Caergwent musingly, 'that some day or other, when we are all old women; Gracie, Addie, and I, may meet and smile at all that is gone and past. I can laugh now, even while I am sorry, to recollect my absurd presumption. I had the influence, delusion on my brain, and believed mine the only right way, and dragooned every one about wasting time. I am glad he asserted himself! What he has done since showed how nonsensical I was. Does he like his work? no one tells me.'
'You know what his chief said.'
'Oh! what?'
'To Mr. Welsh, the member for Ewmouth, so it is quite impartial—that he never had a better fellow to stick to his work, or more clear-headed. Yes! and we all think—here, I mean, as well as at Repworth—that he is so much more of a man. Felix really talks in earnest to him now, and so does his father. His nonsense is gone.'