She smiled significantly, and simple Mrs. Valpy, seeing that the companion was looking at Toby and her daughter, who were amusing themselves at the piano, misinterpreted the smile, and therefore spoke according to her misinterpretation.
"They'll make a very happy couple, won't they, Mrs. Belswin?"
Mrs. Belswin, thus being appealed to, started, smiled politely, and assented with much outward show of interest to the remark of the old lady.
"It's so nice for Toby to have his home here," pursued Mrs. Valpy, with much satisfaction; "because, you know, our place is not far from the vicarage, so I shall not be parted from my daughter."
The other woman started, and laid her hand on her breast, as if to still the beating of her heart.
"Yes; it would be a terrible thing to part with your only child," she said in a low voice. "I know what the pain of such a separation is."
"You have parted from your child, then?" said Mrs. Valpy, sympathetically.
Mrs. Belswin clutched her throat, and gave an hysterical laugh.
"Well, no; not exactly;" she said, still in the same low voice; "but--but my little daughter--my little daughter died many years ago."
It was very hard for her to lie like this when her daughter was only a few yards away, chatting to Maxwell at the window; but Mrs. Belswin looked upon such necessary denial as punishment for her sins, and accepted it accordingly.