Deligny.
“Perhaps, however, there is little difference between understanding and sympathising.”
Casimir Maremma.
GENEVIÈVE came down to luncheon with hopelessly red eyes and a general air of extreme depression. Cicely looked at her kindly, and spoke to her gently; it was impossible not to be touched by the contrast between her present appearance and the bright joyousness which had attracted her cousin’s notice that very morning. Mrs. Methvyn was more demonstratively affectionate than Geneviève had ever known her.
“I am going to Greybridge this afternoon,” said Mrs. Methvyn, “would you like to come with me, Geneviève? I am going in the large carriage, so you won’t have to sit in the back seat. You cannot come, Cicely?”
“No, mother,” said Cicely.
She got up from her chair as she spoke, for luncheon was over, and went to the window.
“It looks so fine,” she remarked. “Don’t you think my father might try another drive?”
Mrs. Methvyn shook her head. “I did suggest it,” she said, “but he did not seem inclined for it. I think he might get over his nervousness about it if Mr. Guildford could go with him once or twice.”
“I wish he could,” exclaimed Cicely. “Would it be worth while to write and ask him if he could come some day soon early enough for a drive?”