“Now what reasons could he have for not liking Captain Granet and suspecting him of all manner of ridiculous things?” she asked. “Did you ever know a more harmless, ingenuous, delightful young man in your life?”
“Perhaps it is because you find him all these things,” Lady Conyers suggested, “that Hugh doesn’t like him.”
“Of course, if he is going to be jealous about nothing at all—”
“Is it nothing at all?”
Lady Conyers raised her head from her knitting and looked across at her daughter. A little flush of colour had suddenly streamed into Geraldine’s face. She drew back as though she had been sitting too near the fire.
“Of course it is,” she declared. “I have only known Captain Granet for a very short time. I like him, of course—every one must like him who knows him—but that’s all.”
“Do you know,” Lady Conyers said, a moment later, “I almost hope that it is all.”
“And why, mother?”
“Because I consider Hugh is a great judge of character. Because we have known Hugh since he was a boy, and we have known Captain Granet for about a week.”
Geraldine rose to her feet.