Philip Ray looked at her, and for the first time in his life realised ecstasy. He had never tasted the wine of love before, and now he was drinking the most potent and intoxicating of all kinds--love at first sight.
"I consider," he said, at last fully awake, "Mr. Crawford a very lucky man." He meant in having so beautiful an advocate.
"So do I," said Layard, meaning in a worldly sense.
"And does he live with you always?" asked Ray, who had some confused memory of the phrase, "sometime lodger."
"No," said Hetty. "He is to come to us for only a couple or three days a month. He has his offices for the property upstairs."
"O, I see," said Ray, much relieved. He did not want this object of her admiration to be near her. He was now interested no more in Mr. Crawford. To keep the conversation going, he said, "And where does Mr. Crawford live the rest of the time?"
"At Richmond."
He started. The name of the town was a harsh, discordant note; but he said nothing, and shortly after took his leave, promising to call again.
From that night he visited almost every evening at Crawford's House. When he was not there he pitied himself with a pathetic, desperate pity. When he was there he wondered how all the rest of the world could be content to dwell so far apart from her.