“What, dear?” inquired her mother.
“I was going to say if I did not know Trevor to be perfectly honourable, I could almost have fancied he was trying to provoke me into breaking off our engagement.” She looked up into her mother’s face with a painful doubt in her eyes.
“No,” said Mrs. Methvyn decidedly; “Trevor is incapable of such a thing. Cicely dear, you have mistaken him. It was only a passing fit of irritation, and he said more than he meant.”
“I hope so,” answered Cicely. “Yes, I hope so. He is not capable of anything scheming or dishonourable. Still, mother, he is changed. He has grown suspicious and irritable; he who used to be so sweet tempered and gentle.”
“He will be so again, dear. I am sure he will,” said her mother confidently. “He is only disappointed. And remember it is partly your father’s fault; he led him to believe the marriage might be sooner.”
“But papa says he will be very glad to have me at home for six months. Six months! It is not long, mother.”
“Your father is in better spirits again just now,” said Mrs. Methvyn. “But a week or two ago, he seemed to wish he could see you married at once. He was very dull about himself at that time.”
“Yes, I remember,” replied Cicely. Then she sat silent for a few moments thinking deeply.
“But—but it was all right again between you before Trevor went?” asked Mrs. Methvyn somewhat timidly.
“‘All right?’ You mean we did not actually quarrel?” said Cicely, smiling a little at her mother’s anxiety. “No, we did ‘make it up’ after a fashion. I don’t think Trevor and I could really quarrel. Only—only—somehow it has left a sore feeling, a feeling of not understanding him as thoroughly as I used to do; of not feeling sure that he understands me. But it will go off again. Forgive me for troubling you, dear mother. I shall be all right again now. Don’t tell Geneviève that anything was wrong.”