She began to temporise. How did she know the exact position of affairs? It was possible that, strive though he might to conceal it from her, the man was in love. She determined upon her course of action. She would tell Virginia how Gaunt had watched her in the Gallery. The girl's own demeanour should give her the cue as to whether or no she should proceed to unfold his proposal. If the sudden fancy had been mutual ... after all, it might have been mutual....
She returned home. She spoke. Virginia betrayed consciousness. Before the mention of the lame man—at the very memory of Hertford House—she had blushed, she had been embarrassed. Further questioning had elicited her clear memory of Gaunt's attention and pursuit. She had owned, with a distinct hesitation, that she thought he looked unhappy. That decided Mrs. Mynors. With a new hard-heartedness, born of her new, tormenting jealousy of Virgie's youth and sweetness, she stamped down the deep-lying scruples. She made the best of Gaunt's case, and said that he wished to come down to Wayhurst to plead his suit himself.
It took some time to convince Virgie that the man was in earnest. Yet, recalling his appearance and manner, as she held them in her memory, the girl owned to herself that this was a man who might make an eccentric, even a quixotic, offer.
The interview was broken off short by the entrance of Tony, who flung open the front door, loudly whistling, and could be heard throwing down his books, and shouting for Virgie. He knew better than to enter the little boudoir, his mother's sanctum. Very, very rarely was he permitted to set foot within its charmed area.
"I have until to-morrow's post," said Virgie gravely, as she lifted the tray with the tea-things, and carried it away.
The whole affair must be pushed into the background for the time being. Pansy was to be fetched downstairs, the tea-table spread in the garden, more tea prepared. Tony was a willing, if somewhat boisterous, helper. He and his sister between them soon arranged things, and the too brilliant eyes of the little cripple glistened with pleasure as she was laid beside the wire arch smothered in Hiawatha, to enjoy the air of the exquisite summer evening.
Virgie sat, the socks she endlessly knitted for Tony in her never idle fingers, watching the clear-cut profile, which, as she could not conceal from herself, grew ever more ethereal. Pansy did not seem definitely worse, and had less pain than formerly. But she was wasting, and her sister knew it.
The Wayhurst doctor was very anxious that a new treatment, in which he had great faith, should be tried. He thought it the only chance; but as it was protracted, and involved a long course of skilled nursing, with daily medical supervision, it would be extremely costly. It was, therefore, out of the question.
Yet, if Virginia married Mr. Gaunt, it would become easy. He had actually volunteered that Pansy should have all the help obtainable. She glanced from Pansy to Tony, and at the darns on his threadbare trouser-knees. She heard his jolly laugh, and also his quickly smothered sigh, as he remarked that he was the only chap in his form who did not belong to the school O.T.C. He knew that the uniform and camp expenses were beyond his sister's resources.
This, too, would be rectified, if she did as suggested. It was a bribe of whose strength Gaunt himself could form no idea.