“Of course. She’s been a perfect brick to me always and she’s a dear, anyway. You know, whenever I’ve got hopelessly fed up with things at home she’s had me in London for weeks together, and she was an angel about John from the beginning. I’d do a good deal for Sybil, and I’m not naturally an unselfish person,” she finished frankly.
Fayre did not allude to the matter again and, when Cynthia announced her intention of going to the Keans’ on the chance of being allowed to see Sybil, he walked with her to the door, but he did not offer to go in. Instead, he mounted a bus and went out to Richmond. Arrived there, he made for the Park and walked until he was tired out. It was late when he entered the station and took the train back to London and he was worn out with hard exercise and lack of food, but he had at last come to a part solution of his difficulties. He had some supper at the club and then literally fell into bed. And this time he slept.
Next morning he rang up Cynthia, whom he found just starting for her dentist’s. He picked her up there after her appointment and carried her off to Kensington Gardens.
He waited until they had found chairs under the trees and then went straight to the point.
“You’re an unusual person, Cynthia,” he said appreciatively. “I’ve kidnapped you in the middle of a busy morning and you’ve not asked a single question.”
“I’ve been worrying, though,” she answered. “Do you realize that you’ve been looking as if you’d lost a shilling and found sixpence, as old Mrs. Doggett would say, ever since I’ve been in town? I nearly asked you before what was the matter, but I thought I’d wait till you came out with it yourself. There is something wrong, isn’t there?”
“Nothing that affects you or Leslie,” he hastened to assure her. “But you are right, I have been worried about something. The trouble is not my own, or I’d put the whole thing before you, and I don’t mind admitting that I should be glad of an outside opinion on it. But that’s out of the question. I’m sorry to be so mysterious.”
Cynthia nodded. Her face showed complete understanding.
“Poor Uncle Fayre!” she said. “I know how you feel. One bothers and bothers over a thing until one can’t see it straight at all and then one loses faith in one’s own judgment. It’s quite true, an outsider is a help sometimes.”
“It’s a help I shall have to do without in this instance,” he admitted reluctantly. “Let’s forget it and talk of something pleasant.”