"So, so! The wind lies there, eh? Well, let it bide, my boy; let it bide awhile. We shall know something more of the matter soon."
And there the discourse of the Squire ended.
Meantime, however, Rose and Adèle are having a little private interview above stairs, which in its subject-matter is not wholly unrelated to the same theme.
"Rose," Adèle had said, as she fondled her in her winning way, "your brother Phil has been very kind to me."
"He always meant to be," said Rose, with a charming glow upon her face.
"He always has been," said Adèle; "but, dear Rose, I know I can talk as plainly to you as to another self almost."
"You can,—you can, Ady," said she.
"I have thought," continued Adèle, "though I know it is very unmaidenly in me to say it, that Phil was disposed sometimes to talk even more warmly than he has ever talked, and to ask me to be a nearer friend to him even than you, dear Rose. May be it is only my own vanity that leads me sometimes to suspect this."
"O, I hope it may be true!" burst forth Rose.
"I hope not," said Adèle, with a voice so gravely earnest that Rose shuddered.