"What, you here!" he exclaimed, as Captain Lennox entered. "Ay. Why not?"
"I should have fancied this house would be too quiet for you," returned Philip. "There will be no Camberley--no high play here."
Captain Lennox stroked his fair moustache, and looked at Philip with an amused smile.
"My good sir, do you suppose I must live ever in a racket? Mr. Kettle was good enough to invite me, and I had pleasure in accepting. As to Camberley--his play goes a little further at times than I care for."
A pretty flush mounted to Maria's cheek as she met Philip; his laughing hazel eyes seemed to have a meaning in them, the pressure of his hand was more emphatic than usual. They had not seen much of each other lately. No direct words of love had yet passed between them, but there was a sort of tacit understanding on both sides that one day they would in all probability become man and wife; needing no assurance in set phrases that they would be true to each other and wait till circumstances should be propitious. Of late, however, Philip's visits to the Vicarage had been few and far between. Rumours had reached Maria of evenings spent in the billiard-room of the Rose and Crown, and of his frequent presence at The Lilacs. When Maria thought of Margaret Ducie's attractions, her heart grew sad.
The dinner guests numbered a dozen--all pleasant people. One or two handsome girls were there, but Philip had eyes for Maria only.
"How nice she looks!" he thought; "how pure, how candid! What is it that constitutes her nameless charm? It cannot be her beauty."
No, for Maria had not very much of that. It was the goodness that shone from every line of her countenance.
Dinner over, the Vicar and a few of his guests retired to his study for a sober hand at whist, leaving the drawing-room free for music and conversation: and so the evening passed on.
Ten o'clock struck, and Philip's momentous words to Maria were still unspoken. At last the watched-for opportunity came. In her search for some particular piece of music, Maria went downstairs to what she still called her schoolroom, and Philip followed. A single jet of gas was lighted, and she was stooping over an old canterbury when he put his arm round her waist. She had not heard his footsteps, and rose up startled.