"Indeed, no; I shall be very much obliged to you. I should hardly know myself by the more formal title. You shall call me Lilian, and I shall call you Cyril,—if you don't mind."
"I don't think I do,—much," says Cyril; so the compact is signed.
"Guy will be here surely by luncheon," says Lady Chetwoode, with a view of giving her guest pleasure.
"Oh! will he really?" says Lilian, in a quick tone, suggestive of dismay.
"I am sure of it," says Guy's mother fondly: "he never breaks his word."
"Of course not," thinks Lilian to herself. "Fancy a paragon going wrong! How I hate a man who never breaks his word! Why, the Medes and Persians would be weak-minded compared with him."
"I suppose not," she says aloud, rather vaguely.
"You seem to appreciate the idea of your guardian's return," says Cyril, with a slight smile, having read half her thoughts correctly. "Does the mere word frighten you? I should like to know your real opinion of what a guardian ought to be."
"How can I have an opinion on the subject when I have never seen one?"
"Yet a moment ago I saw by your face you were picturing one to yourself."