Sylvia did much for herself ... by that speech.
—Page [139]
The bishop, however, although he was lamentably deficient in the philosophy learned out of books, was nevertheless an excellent philosopher in action, and ate a very good dinner in much comfort, without disturbing himself about either the principles or the practices of his neighbours. After dinner Skelton went up to Sylvia in a corner of the drawing-room, and said in a low voice:
“How have you stood him?�
“Dreadfully ill, I am afraid,� answered Sylvia, hopelessly. “If it hadn’t been for little Lewis and his boat, I should have gone mad in these last few days.�
Skelton’s eyes kindled. “How fond that boy is of you!�
“How can one help being fond of him? He is so manly, so intelligent, so affectionate!� Without knowing it Sylvia did much for herself in Skelton’s regard by that speech.
Mrs. Shapleigh insisted that Sylvia should play on the guitar for the bishop. Sylvia began to tune it, but two strings snapped in succession. Skelton then offered to string it for her, but then the new strings snapped. Sylvia shot him a grateful glance, as the guitar was laid away. Mrs. Shapleigh expressed to the bishop, and everybody else, her regret that the bishop couldn’t have heard Sylvia sing. When she said so to Bulstrode, he remarked in an audible growl:
“Drat the bishop!�
The reverend gentleman was luckily deaf to this, and Skelton immediately rose to go, with a wicked smile at Sylvia, who, in her way, seemed to lack for appreciation of her mother’s ecclesiastical idol quite as much as Bulstrode. When Skelton was back at Deerchase that night he thought Sylvia one of the most winning girls he had ever met. But then, he could not admire a charming girl as other men could. He was bound hand and foot. This idea threw him in one of his silent rages, and he walked the library floor for a long time, railing inwardly at Fate.