She hesitates perceptibly, and a blush creeping up dyes her pale face crimson.
"Perhaps I know," says Cyril, an unaccountable misgiving at his heart. "Was it Colonel Trant? Do not answer me if you do not wish it," very gently.
"Yes, it was he. There is no reason why I should not answer you."
"No?"
"No."
"He asked Guy to let you have the cottage?"
"Yes; I had wearied of everything, and though by some chance I had come in for all Mr. Arlington's property, I only cared to go away and hide myself somewhere where I should find quiet and peace. I tried several places, but I was always restless until I came here." She smiles faintly.
Cyril, after a pause, says, hesitatingly:
"Cecilia, did you ever care for—for—Trant?"