Ronald’s eyes had fixed themselves upon Mr. Cossart’s face.
“Are you speaking of Miss Cholmondeley? Surely it has been arranged rather suddenly?”
“Well, we have talked of it often,” said Mrs. Cossart interposing. “Sheila only came out for a time, not for the whole season. It is the chance of sending her back with such a good escort that has settled the matter. She will be very happy with the Barretts. They have made such friends, she and the girls.”
“It is strange she said nothing all day, when we were making all sorts of plans for the future,” said Ronald; and both Mr. and Mrs. Cossart looked so uncomfortable that Lady Dumaresq changed the subject.
There was no walking up and down the corridor or verandah with Ronald that evening, for he followed his party direct into their private sitting-room at the end of the ground-floor passage, and appeared no more that night.
“What does it mean?” he asked, with a note of indignation in his voice.
Miss Adene and Lady Dumaresq exchanged glances. They had seen perfectly through the clumsy manœuvre. Their eyes had been observing the turn affairs were taking for some while. They were not altogether unprepared for some such development.
“Now, Ronald,” said Lady Dumaresq quietly, “it is no use your putting yourself into a fume and fret about this. It is very evident that Mrs. Cossart is jealous of Sheila, because she so entirely eclipses Effie. It is not a very surprising thing that it should be so. We must allow for a mother’s weakness. Perhaps you have yourself helped to bring about the crisis by a rather too visible admiration for the little girl. You were not quite wise to-day, for instance; and she is too much the child to be on her guard; and if people do talk——”
“Let them,” answered Ronald rather proudly. “I am not afraid of having my name coupled with that of the girl I intend to make my wife!”
They all smiled at him. They were all in sympathy with his bold declaration. Lady Dumaresq held out her hand, and Sir Guy laid an affectionate arm over his shoulder.