It was in the drawing-room in Hyde Park Place, during an hour which went very quickly, that Gwynneth made these discoveries; she was still too simple to remark, much less read, the calculating droop of Sidney's eyelids or the veiled preoccupation of the hereditary stare.
"I wonder if you'd care to have a look at Cambridge," at last said Sidney, in the purely speculative tone.
"Like to? I'd love it!" cried Gwynneth at once.
Sidney paused, without relaxing his stare. She was certainly very animated. Sidney was not sure that he cared for quite so much animation with so little cause.
"I shouldn't wonder if you did rather like it," he proceeded, "in May-week—which never is in May, you know."
"Oh? When is it?"
"The week after next. There'll be heaps going on. Races every afternoon——"
"And don't you steer your boat?" interrupted Gwynneth, a partisan on the spot.
Sidney smiled.
"I cox it, Gwynneth; and if we aren't head of the river we shall not be very far off. But it isn't only the races; there are all sorts of other things, a good match, garden-parties galore, and a dance every night."