He looked exuberantly strong and fit, with no air of the dejected and rejected lover about him. Here was one who could adapt himself to new conditions. Presently he led Grimshaw aside and listened attentively to a terse recital of what had happened in Upworthy, laughing heartily when he heard of Gridley and the horsepond, expressing sympathy tempered by humour for Lady Selina.
“If this wakes her up, Grimshaw, all will be well.”
Grimshaw made no reply. Wilverley continued in a different tone:
“Ought I to see her to-night before I go home?”
“As her doctor I’m afraid I must veto that.”
“Thank you; I understand. I shall write. Miss Tiddle wants to see Miss Chandos. I can wait in the car.” Then, sensible of constraint in Grimshaw’s manner, and misinterpreting it, he added frankly: “You are a good chap; you can size up a delicate situation. I will say this to you. This fire has burnt away some humiliation. I believe that good must crop out. If I can help, I will. Miss Tiddle feels as I do—a remarkable girl that!”
“Yes.”
“You look rather fagged.”
“I have a touch of malaria on me.”
They sauntered back to the engine. Wilverley described with enthusiasm Miss Tiddle’s executive abilities. Under her capable direction all the more valuable pictures, porcelain and plate had been stored in the coach-house. Other outbuildings held furniture and household stores.