“Well, Mrs. Hibbert?” he said.
“We thought that perhaps she was—was some one you liked; she was young, it would have been much more suitable.”
“I must know what I desire, and what is most suitable for myself, Mrs. Hibbert,” he answered, without a shade of vexation, but with quiet determination in his voice. Then Jane, evidently to her own satisfaction, entered.
“If you please, ma’am, Mrs. Baines says she would like to speak to Mr. Wimple when you have quite finished with him.”
“Tell Mrs. Baines I will go up to her in a moment; I want to see her.” She turned to Mr. Wimple again when Jane had gone. He rose as if to signify that he considered their conversation at an end. “I fear there is nothing more to say,” she said lamely, for this man, with his silence and utter lack of response, had made every word that suggested itself seem weak and hopeless.
“I think not, Mrs. Hibbert.”
“But for your own happiness, Mr. Wimple,” she said suddenly, struck with a new way of putting it, “you surely can’t want to marry Mrs. Baines for the sake of your own happiness.”
“I want to marry Mrs. Baines as much for my own sake as for hers,” and he looked at her in a manner that was almost a dismissal. It had an influence over her she could not help; almost against her will she rose, feeling that there was no excuse for prolonging the interview.
“I will send Mrs. Baines to you,” she said, in despair.
“Thank you, Mrs. Hibbert, if you will,” and he held open the door for her to pass out.