"Yes, he is."
"You are surprised, of course. I came to you because I feel so alone and so helpless. You know that I am engaged to Mr. Glazzard?"
Her voice faltered. Relieved from anxiety, Lilian looked and spoke in her kindest way.
"Do speak freely to me, Miss Mumbray. I shall be so glad to—to help you in any way I can—so very glad."
"I am sure you mean that. My mother is very much against our marriage—against Mr. Glazzard. She wants me to break off. I can't do that without some better reason than I know of. Will you tell me what you think of Mr. Glazzard? Will you tell me in confidence? You know him probably much better than I do—though that sounds strange. You have known him much longer, haven't you?"
"Not much longer. I met him first in London."
"But you know him through your husband. I only wish to ask you whether you have a high opinion of him. How has he impressed you from the first?"
Lilian reflected for an instant, and spoke with grave conscientiousness.
"My husband considers him his best friend. He thinks very highly of him. They are unlike each other in many things. Mr. Quarrier sometimes wishes that he—that Mr. Glazzard were more active, less absorbed in art; but I have never heard him say anything worse than that. He likes him very much indeed. They have been friends since boyhood."
The listener sat with bowed head, and there was a brief silence.