'That is unfortunate,' said Colonel Mildmay. But after a moment's silence he spoke again more cheerfully. 'We must not spoil Jacinth,' he said. 'If she has been led to cherish any brilliant hopes, the sooner she gives them up the better. I shall be sorry for her disappointment, but I am sure she is not really selfish. If she sees that you and I are happier—infinitely happier—as things are, she will not take it to heart. And it may not be necessary to say much; not to enter into mercenary details, to a child like her.'
'I hope so,' said Mrs Mildmay again. But again her sigh somewhat belied her words.
The very next day brought the dreaded opportunity. Some little allusion was made to Colonel Mildmay's intention of running up to London again the following week.
'Shall you have any commissions for me, Lady Myrtle?' he said lightly.
The old lady shook her head, but without her usual smile.
'I think not, Colonel Mildmay, thank you,' she said. 'I had thought of asking you to see my agent about my house in Brook Street. The present tenant's lease expires nine months hence, and I must make up my mind what I am going to do.'
'I fear I am not very au fait of such matters,' he replied. 'But I could at least hear what the agent has to say more satisfactorily than by letter. So pray let me call; give me all your instructions. I should be more than delighted to be of any use, you must know,' he ended earnestly.
Lady Myrtle seemed pleased.
'Thank you,' she said. 'Well, yes then; I will tell you what I want to know.'
This conversation took place at luncheon. That afternoon Jacinth sought her mother in her own room.