This was direct, and an answer was necessary. The Countess laughed soothingly.
"Dear child!" she cried, "it is impossible to deceive you! We only wished that you two might meet, and perhaps like each other."
"Well," answered Cecilia, "we have met."
The answer was not encouraging, and she did not seem inclined to say more of her own accord, but her mother could not restrain a natural curiosity.
"Yes," she said, in a conciliatory tone, "but how do you like him?"
Cecilia seemed to be hesitating for a moment.
"Very much," she answered, unexpectedly, after the pause.
The Countess was so much pleased that she coloured again. She had never been able to hide what she felt, and she secretly envied people who never blushed.
"I am so glad!" she said. "I was sure you would like each other."
"It does not follow that because I like him, he likes me," answered Cecilia, quietly. "And even if he does, that is not a reason why we should marry. I may never marry at all."