“For Mr. Guildford. I told you we met him when we went to see those pictures the other day. I suspected it then; I am sure of it now. I mean I am sure now that he cares for her too.”
“Surely you are jumping to a conclusion in an extraordinary way, my dear. What can she know of Mr. Guildford? Where have they ever met? And the last thing you told me—only last night I believe it was, you were quite angry because I ventured to express a doubt about it—was that Cicely was breaking her heart for that cousin of hers, Fawcett, I mean, the man who behaved so strangely to her,” said Sir Herbert.
“But that was all a mistake. She has told me it isn’t that,” exclaimed Amiel eagerly. “And, Herbert, you don’t understand. Mr. Guildford was the doctor at Sothernbay.”
She went on to explain his identity with the man, of whom during the first part of their residence in India, there had been frequent mention in home letters. Sir Herbert began to understand things.
“I never dreamt of his being the same Guildford,” he said. “But Amy, my dear, you had better take care what you are about.”
“You don’t mind my asking him to come to see us?” she said. “And supposing what I think should be the case, Herbert, what then?”
“How do you mean?”
“Would it be a bad marriage for Cicely?”
“A bad marriage? In a worldly sense, you mean, I suppose? No, I don’t know that it would. Of course had her position remained what it was, she might have done better. But as things are—no, there would be nothing to object to. And personally I know he is a very estimable man. The H.’s think very highly of him.”
Amiel breathed more freely. She was conscious that she had, as she expressed it, “made herself very nice to Mr. Guildford.” In her dexterous, woman’s way she had succeeded in eliciting from him far more particulars of his acquaintance with her sister than she had before been in possession of, and putting one thing with another, a favourite occupation of hers, she had arrived at her own conclusions. And with even more tact, she had managed to infuse into her companion’s heart, a feeling that hitherto he had never ventured to encourage. She had given him to understand that, in her opinion, he might hope.