"Doubt it!" repeated Mrs. Gantry. "Has she accepted you?"
"No. I—"
"Has she promised you anything?"
"No. She said that, unless she was sure—"
"What more do you need to realize that she is not sure? Can you fancy for a moment that she would hesitate if she really loved you—if she did not intuitively realize that her feeling is no more than gratitude? That is why she is suffering so. She realizes the truth, yet will not admit it even to herself."
Blake forced himself to face the worst. "Then what—what do you—?"
"Ah! so you really are generous!" exclaimed Mrs. Gantry, beaming upon him, with unfeigned suavity. "Need I tell you that she is extremely fond of Lord Avondale? With him there could be no doubts, no uncertainties."
"Jimmy is all right," loyally assented Blake. "Yes, he's all right.
Just the same, unless she—" He stopped, unable to speak the word.
"In accepting him she would attain to—" The tactful dame paused, considered, and altered her remark. "With him she would be happy."
"I'm not saying 'no' to that," admitted Blake. "That is, provided—"