"I should know that from his influence upon you."
She looked at me wistfully, smoothed my hair with her cool hand, and resumed the letter.
"He thinks he will not come to Surrey with you; asks me to tell him my wishes," she repeated rapidly, translating from the original. "What do I think of our future? How shall we propose any change? Will Cassandra describe her visit? Will she tell me that he thinks of going abroad?"
She dropped the letter. "What pivot is he swinging on? What is he uncertain about?"
"There must be more to read."
She turned another page.
"If I go to Switzerland (I think of going on account of family affairs), when shall I return? My family, of course, expected me to marry in their pale; that is, my mother rather prefers to select a wife for me than that I should do it. But, as you shall never come to Belem, her plans or wishes need make no difference to us. If Cassandra would be to us what she might, how things would clear! Don't you think, my love, that there should be the greatest sympathy between sisters?"
I laughed.
Verry said she did not like his letter much after all. He evidently thought her incapable of understanding ordinary matters. It was well, though; it made their love idyllic.
"Let us speak of matters nearer home."