“Then you will stand quietly by to see your own child’s heart broken, whilst this artful little minx carries on her games under our very noses.”
At that Mr. Cossart looked grave and uttered a low whistle.
“Do you mean that our Effie has begun to—to—well, to care for this young man? I never thought her the kind to fall in love just with a handsome face.”
“Ronald Dumaresq has more than a handsome face,” answered Mrs. Cossart with slight asperity, “and I have no hesitation in saying that he has taken Effie’s fancy in a way that no other man has done to my knowledge. The last doctor we consulted about Effie said that some interest of that sort in her life just now might be the best possible thing for her. When first I saw Ronald Dumaresq I thought that he would be the very husband for her; he is well-born, fairly well-to-do, kind-hearted, affectionate, and, I think, very high principled. If you watch Effie when she is talking to him, you will see how she brightens up. But that Sheila is for ever putting herself forward. I wish we had never brought her, and I am certain Effie is beginning to wish the same.”
Mr. Cossart was silent; this was putting the matter in a new light. He rubbed his chin and looked disturbed.
“What are the girls doing now?” he asked as though to gain time.
“We will come and see,” said Mrs. Cossart, rising with a kind of vicious alacrity. “I know nothing, but I can guess. Sheila will by hook or by crook have got Ronald Dumaresq in tow, you will see, and Effie will be left out in the cold, or reduced to fall back on those everlasting Murchison girls! I did not bring Effie out here to throw her into the arms of a tradesman’s daughters!” and Mrs. Cossart gave that little toss to her head which was so like Effie’s.
Husband and wife rose and wandered down the garden paths, too well used to the wealth of flowers and the glint of the sparkling sea to remark upon the beauties before them. Mrs. Cossart’s face was displeased, and his was troubled. Presently the sound of a clear ringing laugh broke upon their ears, and Mrs. Cossart uttered a suggestive snort.
“There’s Sheila, on the tennis court, I expect. Come and see for yourself how she plays companion to Effie!”
They moved on till they could command a view of the court from a terrace above, and then a pretty scene revealed itself to their eyes.