“Yes,” she answered wonderingly. “I’ve stayed with her in London, you know, as well as seeing her often at Staveley. Why do you ask?”
“What do you really think of those two, Cynthia?” Then, seeing the genuine bewilderment in her face: “I’m curious about Sybil. Edward is, and always has been, absolutely devoted and there can be no question that, from his point of view, their marriage has been a very happy one. But what about Sybil?” Cynthia’s face cleared.
“You mean, does she love him?” she said frankly. “It’s funny you should ask that. I was puzzling over it last night. Eve Staveley told me a long time ago that Sybil had never got over her first husband’s death and that she believed that it was only Edward’s insistence that made her marry him. Well, I was wondering last night whether she was right.”
“You think that Sybil’s fonder of Edward than any of us realize?”
In spite of his efforts he could not subdue the urgency in his voice.
“Honestly, I believe she is fonder of him than she realizes herself,” answered Cynthia slowly. “If you asked her, she’d probably tell you that she had never forgotten her first husband and could never care for any one else and she’d think she was speaking the truth, but I saw Sybil once when she was really anxious about Edward and I’m certain she cares far more than people think. You see, I’d just got engaged to John then and I suppose I was in the mood to notice that sort of thing,” she finished, with a swift, shy glance at his intent face.
He nodded.
“I expect you’re right. At any rate, I’m prepared to trust to your intuition.”
He returned to the study of his boot-tips and, for a minute or two, they sat in silence. It was broken by Cynthia.
“Then it was Sybil you were worrying about,” she remarked calmly.