‘May I speak with him, sir?’
‘No.’
They had passed almost before the question and answer were spoken. Carrie did not even bow to him in the passing, but she smiled a brilliant flashing smile and blushed like a rose.
‘Phil looks older, does he not, sir?’ she asked, as they walked along—only her quick-drawn breath and the excited little pinch she gave to her father’s arm betrayed her excitement.
Sebastian did not reply.
It was the next Sunday that Carrie made a delightful discovery: Phil had begun to come to church at St. Mary Minories! Carrie was just stifling a yawn behind her hand, when, across the little church, she caught sight of Phil. He sat just opposite her—why, why was the service so very short? Carrie, who was as regular a slumberer as she was an attendant upon Church services, now sat forward in the great square pew, wide awake, and any observant person must have noted how her eyes wandered across the church, and met those of the young man who occupied the opposite pew. Then she would flicker her eyelids and look down and blush an enchanting blush under the shade of the great feathered hat she wore, and then the same thing would be gone through over again. Phil, on his part, leant forward, staring unabashedly at Carrie. He was delighted to observe that her sole guardian during church hours was Lady Mallow, and Lady Mallow, like her niece, slept whenever it was possible to do so. After they had mutually made these pleasant discoveries I suppose it would have been difficult to find two happier young people than they were that morning. Every circumstance seemed to be fortunate for them, for Phil saw to his delight that Lady Mallow, whose pew was near the door, seemed to be in the habit of letting all the congregation disperse before she left it. This quite suited Phil. He walked slowly down the aisle and passed so near Carrie that his sleeve brushed hers for a moment—for Carrie had risen, and now fumbled at the door of the pew in the most opportune manner.
Carrie said nothing about this to her father; she thought the meeting had been accidental; but when another, and yet another, and yet another Sunday passed, and on each day she saw Phil, Carrie, out of the depth of her honest heart, found it necessary to tell Sebastian about it. She came and stood behind his chair, let her pretty white hands fall one over each shoulder, and laid her cheek against his.
‘Dear sir,’ she said, ‘I think I should tell you something—I think ’tis scarce honest in me to be silent about it.’
‘Eh?’ queried Sebastian, as he turned to kiss one of Carrie’s hands.
‘I must tell you, sir, that I see Philip Meadowes each Lord’s day at church in St. Mary Minories. I have never spoken with him, but I fear we look at each other most part of the morning.’