‘Cherry,’ he said, ‘if you are not busy, I should like to ask you a question. I came upstairs a little while ago, but you were too much occupied to notice me.’
‘James! indeed, I never saw you.’
‘I know you did not. I did not mean to blame anyone. Tell me what you meant the other morning, when you advised me to stay at home after dinner—not to leave Cara? Was it for Cara’s sake?’
‘Cara was lonely, James; she has never—been used—to be left alone.’
‘Was it for Cara’s sake?’
‘Oh, James,’ said Miss Cherry, faltering, ‘don’t think I wish to interfere! You are more able to judge than I am. It is not my place to make any remarks upon what you do.’
‘Cherry, don’t evade the question; why did you speak to me so? Was it entirely for Cara’s sake?’
Miss Cherry grew red and grew white. She clasped her hands together in unconscious supplication. ‘I must say what I think if I say anything, James. It was a little for—dear Mrs. Meredith too. One must think of her as well. Her husband is a long way off; she is a very kind woman—kindness itself. Even if she thought you came too often, she would not like to say anything. Women understand women, James. She would say to herself, that to send you away would hurt your feelings, and she would rather bear a little annoyance herself.’
‘Do you mean to say she has had any annoyance on my account?’
‘She might have, James dear. She has not taken me into her confidence; but people talk. I suppose if she was a widow and you could—marry——’