‘I like Sims,’ said Cara, her heart rising, she could not tell why. ‘I like everybody I used to know.’
‘So do I—because you do; otherwise I am not so fond of my fellow-creatures; some of them plague one’s life out. What are you going to do when you get used to the excitement of seeing us all again? You will find yourself very badly off for something to do.’
‘Do you?’ said Cara, innocently.
‘My mother does for me. She thinks me very idle. So I am, I suppose. What is the good of muddling what little brains one has in work? One in a family who does that is enough. Edward is that excellent person. He goes in for Greek so that my head aches; though why he should, being intended for the Civil Service, I don’t know.’
‘Won’t it do him any good?’ said Cara, with regret. She was practical, and did not like to hear of this waste of labour. ‘Is Edward—changed—like you?’ she added softly, after a pause. He looked at her with laughing bright eyes, all softened and liquid with pleasure. He knew what she meant, and that his handsome face was having its natural effect upon Cara; though, being much older than Cara, he could not have believed how little effect his good looks really had.
‘I think he is very like what he always was,’ he said; ‘he is such a good fellow, Cara. If anyone asks you which is the best of the Merediths, say Edward. You may be sure you will be right. Listen what the elders are saying; they are talking about you and me.’
‘Why about you and me?’ Cara was always slightly alarmed to hear that she was being talked of. It roused the latent suspicion in her which had been startled into being at her mother’s death. She stopped talking, and looked at the other two. His mother was opposite to Oswald, and her father was opposite to her. What an odd arrangement it seemed when you came to think of it! If papa had got one of the boys, and she, Cara, had fallen to the lot of Mrs. Meredith—would that have been better? She looked at Oswald’s mother and wondered; then bethought herself of the Hill and blushed. No, such an idea was nothing but treachery to the Hill, where it was Cara, and no other, who was the chosen child.
‘She has grown into a little lily,’ said Mrs. Meredith. ‘She is shy, but open and winning, and I like girls to be shy like that. I do not wonder that you are proud of her.’
‘Am I proud of her? I am not sure. She is nice-looking, I think.’
‘Nice-looking? She has grown into a little lily. It is wonderful how she blends two likenesses; I see you both. Ah! have I said too much? A happy child so often does that; you will forgive me if I say anything that hurts——’