“Then what day shall we go?” said Cicely; “Geneviève will be coming home on Friday, so that day would not do—we must not be out when she arrives.”
“Is Miss Casalis sure to come on Friday?” said Mr. Guildford. “Would it do to wait till next week, and then she could go too?”
“No,” said Cicely decidedly; “there will probably be a change of weather by next week, and then we could not go at all. Will not Thursday do, mother? Will that suit you, Mr. Guildford?”
“Oh! yes, quite well,” he replied. So Thursday was decided upon.
“Cicely,” said her mother, when they were alone, “why did you answer so sharply when Mr. Guildford proposed to put off going to Roodsmere till Geneviève’s return? It sounded as if you did not want her to come.”
“I am not sure that I did want her, mother,” said Cicely, “but I did not mean to speak unkindly. I don’t think Trevor likes Mr. Guildford, and he will be back when Geneviève is; that was another reason for not putting it off. I had just a sort of wish to have this last drive all by ourselves, mother,—you and father and I.”
“But there will be Mr. Guildford,” said her mother.
“I don’t mind him. I think he understands,” said the girl vaguely.
“Why do you say ‘this last drive’?” said Mrs. Methvyn. “If the weather keeps fine, your father may be out a good many times yet.”
“I don’t think the weather will keep fine; I have a feeling that we have got to the last of the summer,” replied Cicely sadly.