“Nobody understands her,” he said; “she's so plucky!”
Mrs. Pendyce stole a glance at him, and a little ironical smile flickered over her face.
“No one can look at her without seeing her spirit. But, Grig, perhaps you don't quite understand her either!”
Gregory Vigil put his hand to his head.
“I must open the window a moment,” he said.
Again Mrs. Pendyce's fingers began twisting, again she stilled them.
“We were quite a large party last week, and now there's only Charles. Even George has gone back; he'll be so sorry to have missed you!”
Gregory neither turned nor answered, and a wistful look came into Mrs. Pendyce's face.
“It was so nice for the dear boy to win that race! I'm afraid he bets rather! It's such a comfort Horace doesn't know.”
Still Gregory did not speak.