The sharp ejaculation indicated amazement—and what else? Cicely was too nervous to analyse her own emotions, much less those of another; but the light in Grimshaw’s eyes illuminated his deeps unmistakably. He was glad—glad. And in a second an amazing change took place in him. He became the friend, eager to help and console. The two met again upon equal terms. Ten years seemed to drop from him as he exclaimed fervently:
“I knew it.”
“What did you know?”
She asked the question calmly, although her heart was throbbing.
“I knew that he was not the man for you and that you were not the woman for him. I understand exactly how you drifted into the engagement. And how plucky to have broken it! He is such a good fellow that he made it less hard for you, didn’t he?”
She nodded, hardly able to speak. He continued in the same boyish tones:
“And your mother? . . . I’m most awfully sorry for her.”
“Mother is miserable, too miserable to scold me. And she is not the scolding sort. At this moment she is lying down—brooding. She will go on brooding. At dinner, to-night, she will be ever so nice to me, but the distance between us will be immense. Tell me how I can lessen it. There must be a way.”
“You love her; she loves you. Pin your faith to that.”
“And then there is you. I am sure that she will not ask Lord Wilverley to help her, and you . . . you . . .”