"It seems that, after all, he is coming," said Hilda.
"Have you seen his name in any of the lists of passengers?"
"No."
"Then he has not left yet."
"Perhaps not; but still I can not trust to that altogether. His name may be omitted."
"Would such a name as his be likely to be omitted?"
"I suppose not; and so he can not have left India as yet--unless, indeed, he has come under an assumed name."
"An assumed name! Would he be capable of that? And if he were, what motive could he have?"
"Ah! there I am unable to find an answer. I'm afraid I have been judging of Lord Chetwynde by that." And Hilda pointed to the portrait of the young officer, Guy Molyneux, over the fireplace. "Years have changed him, and I have not made allowance for the years. I think now that this Lord Chetwynde must be very different from that Guy Molyneux. This hero of Delhi; this assailant of Tantia Toupi; this dashing officer, who is at once brilliant in the field and in the social circle; this man who, in addition to all this, has proved himself to be a wise ruler, with a 'genius for administration,' is a man who, I confess, dawns upon me so suddenly that it gives me a shock. I have been thinking of an innocent boy. I find that this boy has grown to be a great, brave, wise, strong man! There, I think, is the first mistake that I have made."
Hilda's words were full of truth and meaning. Gualtier felt that meaning.