“Impressionable, I should say,” said Philip. “And very warm-hearted. I like to see that sort of impulsiveness,” he added heartily, watching Madelene’s face rather closely the while.
Again a slightly uneasy look stole over it.
“Yes,” she said, “it was kind, thoroughly kind of her to help poor Hetty.”
But even in this cordial praise there was a suggestion of reserve which did not escape Philip.
“Cross-purposes. They’re all at cross-purposes,” he thought, “and I’m afraid Maddie’s in a mood for a good long ride on her hobby-horse at present. Madelene,” he said suddenly after some moments silence, “you’ve had a letter from Bernard lately. I know you have, for he wrote to me by the same mail.”
“In that case I need not give you any news, as you will have heard it all direct,” Miss St Quentin replied dryly.
“Come now, Maddie, I know what that means. You don’t want to talk about him. Is there no change then—do you see no prospect of any?”
“None at all,” Madelene replied, in a voice which she strove to make as expressionless as possible.
“It’s rather hard upon Omar, I must say,” said Philip; and if his object were to rouse his cousin, he succeeded.
“Did I ever say it wasn’t hard on him?” she exclaimed. “Is it my fault? Have I left undone anything to make him give it up?”