“I know that,” said Phœbe. “But is there, if I can say so without being indelicate, do you think there is some understanding between Miss Avesham and Mr. Collingwood? Do you suppose she stood to him? How interesting it would have been if we had happened to stroll down there one of these last days and seen him working!”
“No doubt you are right, Phœbe,” said her sister.
“It is not proved,” said Phœbe, modestly, “but it seems likely. We can’t ask Miss Avesham about it, and really I dare not ask Mrs. Collingwood.”
“Ask her about what?”
“Don’t you see, Clara, it would be so awkward if this picture had been done without Miss Avesham’s knowledge. Dear me, how well he has caught the likeness! There is a ring at the bell. Go to the window, Clara, keeping yourself out of sight, and see who it is.”
Clara ambushed herself behind the curtains and peeped out.
“Colonel Raymond,” she whispered, “and Mrs. Raymond.”
“Dear me, how fortunate! I dare say he will know. Tell them to bring tea at once, Clara. He is sure to have heard of it if his cousin is engaged. We’ll show him the picture, and see if he says anything.”
Colonel Raymond was in the best spirits that afternoon. He had at last been to call on the Aveshams, and he considered that his reception had been most gratifying. He had also explained at length his relationship to Jeannie, and all was satisfactory. Mrs. Raymond also was in cheerful mood, since the Colonel had decided to pay calls this afternoon, and thus there was no brisk walk for the children.
The talk soon turned on the picture exhibition, and Clara announced with modest pride that Jack Collingwood had sent them a contribution.