Mr. Musselwhite reflected, stroking his whiskers in a gentlemanly way.
"One misses her," was his next remark.
"Yes, so much. She is so charming—don't you think, Mr. Musselwhite?"
"Very." He now plucked at the whiskers uneasily. "Oh yes, very."
Barbara smiled and turned her attention to the book, as though she could spare no more time. Mr. Musselwhite, dimly feeling that this topic demanded no further treatment, racked his brains for something else to say. He was far towards Lincolnshire when a rustle of the pages under Barbara's finger gave him a happy inspiration.
"I don't know whether you would care to see English papers now and then, Miss Denyer? I always have quite a number. The Field, for instance, and—"
"You are very kind, I don't read much English, but I shall be glad to see anything you like to bring me."
Mrs. Denyer was not wholly without consolation in her troubles about Clifford Marsh.
On the following morning, as she and her daughters were going out, they came face to face with a gentleman who was announcing to the servant his wish to see Miss Doran. Naturally they all glanced at him. Would he be admitted? With much presence of mind, Madeline exclaimed,—
"Oh dear, mamma! I have forgotten that letter. Please wait for me; I won't be a minute."