“For the moment. I was so sorry for the mother. And it meant so much to the village. We old bachelors are confirmed matchmakers. Yes, yes; it upset me, but I can admit frankly that I left little Cicely out of my reckoning. She didn’t want a good fellow, and she cut loose from him. The why and wherefore are beyond me, but the essential fact suffices.”
“Perhaps she cared for somebody else?”
Pawley shook his head.
“No, no; in that case I venture to think that I should have had an inkling, eh? Since she came out, the child has met nobody—nobody.”
Grimshaw laughed.
“Exactly. Now be prepared for a shock. I’m nobody. In Lady Selina’s eyes that describes me to a dot.”
Pawley was not dense, but, for an instant, he was befogged, and Grimshaw realised this, and with it the inevitable conclusion that even his friend and colleague regarded him, like Lady Selina, as negligible. He smiled derisively: and the smile was illuminating. Pawley understood.
“Good Lord! I’ve been blind.”
“There wasn’t much to see. I was blind myself till yesterday. And then, suddenly, I saw. I’ll add this to you. I fell in love with her five minutes after I met her. When I scraped that midge out of her eye the big thing happened. I fought against it. Yesterday I succumbed. She—she cares for me, bless her!”
“You mean it’s settled?”