At another time that dinner, eaten in the company of people whom Nesta had never even dreamed about before, might have confused her, but she was past being confused now. She had a curious sensation, however, that the rich and delicately cooked food provided for the guests at Castle Walworth was as little to her taste as fried herrings and pease pudding at Mrs Hogg’s cottage. There was a heavy weight about her heart; she could scarcely raise her eyes to look at any one. Angela seemed to know all that, for after dinner she took her away, and out in the cool garden in the shadows of the summer night she talked to Nesta as no one had ever talked to her before.
Chapter Thirty One.
The Best of them All.
“It is all too wonderful,” said Nesta.
“Yes, isn’t it?” replied Penelope.
“To think,” continued Nesta, “that I should like it, that I should even on the whole be quite pleased.”
“As to me,” said Penelope, “I can scarcely contain myself. It is all on account of her, too. In fact, it is on account of both of them. They are both coming, you know.”
“Oh, it is mostly on account of her, as far as I am concerned,” said Nesta.