“Why, rouse up, and go and tell her yourself, to be sure,” replied Lewis.
“No, not I!” returned Leicester moodily. “I’ll have no more trouble about it. I’ll leave this house to-morrow morning, and be off to Baden, or Naples, or Timbuctoo, or some place where there are no women, if such a Paradise exists—and she may marry De Grandeville, or whom she pleases, for me. You see, it would be different if she cared at all for me, but to worry one’s heart out about a girl who does not even like one——”
“Halte là!” interrupted Lewis; “lookers-on see most of the game; and if I know anything of woman’s nature”—he paused and bit his lip as the recollection of Gretchen crossed his mind—“depend upon it, Miss Peyton is not as indifferent to you as you imagine.”
“Did you see how coldly she received me to-night?” urged Leicester.
“Yes; and her so doing only confirmed my previous opinion. That chattering Miss Singleton had annoyed her by bidding me summon you in Miss Peyton’s name; but the very fact of her annoyance showed consciousness; had she been indifferent to you she would not have cared. Then her irritation at Lady Mary’s familiarity proves the same thing.”
“You really think so?” returned Leicester, brightening up. “My dear fellow, you’ve quite put new life into me. It’s very odd now, I never saw it in that light before. What would you have me do, then?”
“If, as you say, you really and truly love her,” returned Lewis gravely, “lay aside—excuse my plain speaking—lay aside your fashionable airs, which disguise your true nature, and tell her of your affection in a simple, manly way, and if she is the girl I take her to be, your trouble will not be wasted.” So saying, he rose and quitted the room, leaving Leicester to reflect on his advice.