'He and Ellinor seem to have quarrelled.'
'Quarrelled—surely not! About what or who?'
'That man Sir Redmond Sleath, and his attentions to her.'
'They will make up this quarrel as they have made up others long ago,' said poor Mary, cheerfully, as she little knew to what a crisis the baronet's admiration for her sister was coming—nay, had come. She knew nothing of the scene in the conservatory and other minor scenes, of the present of jewellery, of utterances and promises. She believed the whole affair was only a lovers' quarrel, stimulated by jealousy on Robert's part, and vanity on that of Ellinor; and meantime she sympathised with Mrs. Wodrow, and would have done so with Robert had he been there, but he was fully and painfully occupied elsewhere at that precise time.
'As children—as boy and girl, they may have quarrelled, Mary; but this affair will be a serious one for both, for Robert especially. His studies are neglected, his appetite is gone, and he looks the ghost of himself.'
Mary knew not what more to urge, as she had seen, with some anxiety, Sir Redmond's admiration of her sister, and said, after a pause,
'I wonder what manner of man Sir Redmond is?'
'Judging by the little I saw of him at the garden-party—where the mischief seems to have been done—not a good man, Mary dear—not a good man, though a handsome one in his way, and to a young girl, I doubt not, fascinating. Yet I would rather see my daughter dead, if I had one, than married to a man with eyes so cold, so cruel and shifty.'
'But who is thinking of marriage?' said Mary, with a slight laugh, little knowing that it was a contingency as remote from the thoughts of Sir Redmond as her own.
'And I don't think that Captain Colville—for all that Dr. Wodrow seems to like him so much—can be good in every way if he has such a friend or companion as Sir Redmond Sleath,' said the old lady, shaking her head.