"No—I'm sure he won't," said Evie awkwardly, the more awkward, because she was trying so hard not to be.
"Such a man couldn't be mean. I am certain of that," Christina went on. "Evie, I am not scared about you any more—and I was, you know. Just scared! Sometimes when you came back from seeing Ronnie, I dared not look at you for fear—I didn't exactly know what I feared. Now—well, I feel that you are in good hands, darling, and I shall not be thinking every time you go out: 'I wonder if she will come back again?'"
Evie's face was burning. If she had spoken, she would have betrayed herself. She became interested in the contents of a hanging cupboard and hummed a careless tune, shakily.
"Are you singing or is it the hinge?" asked Christina.
"You're very rude—I was singing—humming."
"There must be music in the family somewhere," said Christina, "probably it goes back to our lordly ancestor—"
"I told Teddy about that, about Lord Fransham—"
"Did you tell Ronnie?"
Evie wondered if she should say. Christina was so excellently disposed toward him that it would be a pity to excite her resentment.
"Yes—he laughed. He said everybody has a lord in his family if he only goes back far enough. Teddy thought it was wonderful and he said—you'll laugh?"