These were not sufficiently tangible sensations for discussion, there seemed nothing in them that these two persons could seize upon and argue from to any purpose, so they were struggling to put them behind them. Mr. Waring succeeded, his wife was not so fortunate.
The vague feeling was quite like a Jack-in-the-box for sudden appearances during the next few days, and whenever it sprang up, a little ache followed hot on the heels of it.
At last she made a supreme effort to regain her reason, and remarked with rather deceptive cheerfulness,
“I think, dearest, we may now dismiss this matter from our minds. I am quite willing to trust it in Mr. Fellowes’ hands, as I presume you are. You do feel perfect confidence in him?” she questioned a little anxiously, as Mr. Waring did not speak for a moment.
“Darling, yes!” he said with a start, “in this matter certainly yes, this is quite within his rôle, I do not think we could find a wiser helper or counsellor. And he is so thoroughly a gentleman, he so kindly waived his theological objections when he found that on this part of the question we had both arrived at a fixed conclusion. Yes, in the choice of a tutor we could desire no better adviser. At the moment you spoke I was speculating upon Fellowes from another point of view; I am really quite astonished that a man so advanced in some phases of thought should be so limited so—almost retrograde—in others, and above all, so strangely content with his life, with hardly a moment in it for undisturbed reflection, and no moment at all for any attempt at valuable work. I cannot imagine either where he finds companionship.”
He paused to sigh. “We have so little time, love, to give to him, time is so very much to us. Our other neighbours seem to hunt when they do not fish and fish when they do not hunt, they can have neither time nor strength left for intellectual culture. Then Mr. and Mrs. Fellows have, I believe, duties; they sit on Boards and Councils and no doubt follow other pursuits of like order, but as companions, naturally they must be impossible. Then as to his wife, she is a comely person—she is, is she not, dearest? I am so very poor a judge—but I do not perceive any glimmerings of thought in her. You can better judge of her, dear, have you ever discovered any?”
Mrs. Waring considered for a moment then she shook her head.
“I do not think I have expected any,” she said, “so indeed I have hardly looked. I have only thought of her kindness, and of her knowledge of children and their feeding. I am very fond of her and so very grateful, but I have never once really talked to her.”
“I thought so—it is strange—strange. However, I am most thankful this business is done, we may now be able to begin those papers to-night—I look forward with much pleasure to them. Curious what very opposed views we take on this subject—h’m, I fancy I am right, dear.”
Mrs. Waring thought not, and signified the fact by a very decided shake of her sweet golden locks, that looked more like spun silver in the moon’s rays.