It was odd, but the repulsion was still active, while at the same time she was already, after a fashion, opening her heart to him.
It was not easy to frame an answer, on the moment, to this strange address. He could only say, as again he bowed low—
"I do recollect, Lady Alice, having seen you in Wardlock Church. My uncle, Monsieur Varbarriere—"
At this point the handsome young gentleman broke down. His uncle had whispered him, as they sat side by side—
"Look at that old lady costumed in mourning, in the seat in the gallery with the marble tablet and two angels—do you see?—on the wall behind. That is Lady Alice Redcliffe. I'll tell you more about her by-and-by."
"By-and-by," as Guy Strangways had come to know, indicated in M. Varbarriere's vocabulary that period which was the luminous point in his perspective, at which his unexplained hints and proceedings would all be cleared up. The sudden rush of these recollections and surmises in such a presence overcame Guy Strangways, and he changed colour and became silent.
The old lady, however, understood nothing of the causes of his sudden embarrassment, and spoke again.
"Will you forgive an old woman for speaking with so little reserve?—your voice, too, sir, so wonderfully resembles it—wonderfully."
Old Lady Alice dried her eyes a little here, and Guy, who felt that his situation might soon become very nearly comical, said very gently—
"There are, I believe, such likenesses. I have seen one or two such myself." And then to Beatrix, aside, "My presence and these recollections, I fear, agitate Lady Alice."