For which she was rewarded by a hug from Lotty, and an affectionate kiss from Sybil.
That afternoon, as Cissy was resting on the sofa, after walking with Marion to return some of the visits paid them the previous week, they were surprised by the entrance of Sir Ralph Severn.
He seemed pleased to renew his acquaintance with Mrs. Archer, and apologised for not having recognized her at the table d’hôte.
“Your not knowing me was very excusable, I think,” said Mrs. Archer; “remember, it is seven years since we met at Cairo.”
“Seven years only,” said he; I could fancy it was fifteen.”
“Do I look such an old woman already?” asked Cissy, maliciously.
Sir Ralph looked confused.
“I do beg your pardon, Mrs. Archer,” he exclaimed. “I am sure I have said so. Indeed, I doubt if I was ever anything else. My remembrance of you at Cairo is that you then looked very, very young. A mere child, I was going to say, but I am not at all sure that such an expression would not be as bad as the other was.”
“Supposing we take the middle course, then,” said Cissy; “being neither an old woman nor a mere child, I may consider myself as somewhere between the two. But seriously, Sir Ralph, though you needn’t call me an old woman, I hope, for my husband’s sake, you will consider me as an old friend. George will be really pleased to hear of your coming to see me; and if you don’t find the company of two ladies unendurably stupid, I hope now and then you will look in when you have nothing better to do.”
Sir Ralph seemed pleased.