He
looked at Lady Eversleigh with a serio-comic expression of
bewilderment, and looked from her to the baronet.
"Well?" asked Sir Oswald, presently, when Honoria had left them.
"Well, Oswald, if the truth must be told, I think you had some excuse
for your folly. She is a beautiful creature; and if there is any faith
to be put in the human countenance, she is as good as she is
beautiful."
The baronet grasped his friend's hand with a pressure that was more
eloquent than words. He believed implicitly in the captain's powers of
penetration, and this favourable judgment of the wife he adored filled
him with gratitude. It was not that the faintest shadow of doubt
obscured his own mind. He trusted her fully and unreservedly; but he
wanted others to trust her also.
* * * * *
While Sir Oswald and his friend were enjoying a brief interval of
confidential intercourse, Reginald Eversleigh and Victor Carrington
lounged in a pleasant little sitting-room, smoking their cigars, and
leaning on the stone sill of the wide Gothic window.
They were talking, and talking very earnestly.
"You are a very clever fellow, I know, my dear Carrington," said
Reginald; "but it is slow work, very slow work, and I don't see my way
through it."
"Because you are as impatient as a child who has set his heart on a new
toy," answered the surgeon, disdainfully.
Pages:
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146