“Mamma,” was the girl’s answer. “She wonders when we are going home; but I am enjoying Pen’yllan so much——”
She paused, and blushed. Just lately it had occurred to her that it might be possible that Lisbeth misunderstood her relation to Hector, and something in Lisbeth’s face made her stop and blush in this opportune manner.
“The weather is so lovely,” she ended, “that I don’t think I want to go yet.”
Lisbeth smiled, but her smile was an abstracted sort of affair.
“No,” she said. “We won’t go yet. Pen’yllan is doing both of us good; and it is doing Mr. Anstruthers good, too. We won’t go yet. Tell Mrs. Esmond so, Georgie.”
And then she carried her absent smile up stairs.
CHAPTER XVI.
YES—TO LISBETH.
Georgie stood still, and looked after her. She blushed more deeply than ever. A queer distress and discomfort came upon her, and filled her mind. She had only wondered, before, if it was possible that Lisbeth did not know, did not wholly understand; but now the truth revealed itself in an uncomfortable flash of recognition.
“Oh!” she exclaimed, under her breath. “She does not see. She thinks—I am sure she thinks—” But she did not put the rest into words.