The person who felt Mr. Sandford's arrival to be of very real importance was Lady Lyons—next to her, her son. Lady Lyons, who always saw less or considerably more in every action which touched her in any way, and of course her son, came to a conclusion immediately.
"This I consider good," she said to the amazed young man, continuing a thought aloud as she sometimes did, and thereby somewhat bewildering him.
"Mother! What do you consider good?"
"Mr. Sandford's arrival; is it possible, my dear Paul, you do not understand the full importance of this. Have you not realized what this means?"
"Certainly not."
"Men are so dreadfully dense," said the mother, with a gesture of impatience.
"Will you enlighten me, since I am only a man and so dense." He spoke in a tone of good-humoured banter.
"My dear Paul," she began, looking at him with much affection, "you have been a dear good son, a dutiful son, and in this instance I am sure a wise one—you have kept away from Margaret Rivers till something was known. Do you not see now in the arrival of Mr. Sandford an anxiety to see—not his nieces, from whom he parted not so long ago—but you, Paul, you! He has probably heard something from Mrs. Dorriman (in that quarter, my boy, I have not left a stone unturned), and he may have heard that Margaret is inclined to respond. Eh! Paul? You see therefore he comes himself to know if you are worthy!"
"My poor, dear mother," said Paul, "if men are dense as you say, still the imagination of women is quite beyond belief."
"Imagination founded on fact, my dear Paul."