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Cecily was mute. Thereupon Mrs. Travis opened the little sealskin-bag that lay on her lap, and took out a newspaper. She held it to Cecily, pointing to a certain report. It was a long account of lively proceedings at a police-court. Cecily read. When she had come to the end, her eyes remained on the paper. She did not move until Mrs.
'Let us hope she doesn't know too much about him, I cried gaily, 'or there will be nothing to tell! 'Oh, really and truly very little! said Cecily, 'but as soon as we heard papa would be stationed here Aunt Emma made me read up about those old Moguls and people. I think I remember the dynasty. Baber, wasn't he the first?
Her eyes were wet with tears of indignant sympathy. On alighting at Charing Cross, Cecily searched the platform for Reuben. There could be no doubt of his coming to meet her, for she had written to tell him that Mrs. Lessingham would at once go into the country from another station, and she would thus be alone. But she looked about and waited in vain.
Before condemning Jacques Ferrand on the proofs given by the notary himself to Cecily, the prince, his deep interest for the Goualeuse, having caused inquiries to be made at Asnieres, had learned that, in fact, two women, one old and the other young, and dressed in a peasant's costume, had been drowned in going to Ravageurs' Island, and that rumor accused the Martials of this new crime.
From that day to this the thought or the mention of God brings up before us involuntarily the vision of a stern, angry, old man. Such was the price we were to pay for the indulgence of a curiosity which each of us, deep in our hearts, had, like Sara Ray, felt ought not to be gratified. "Mr. Marwood told me to burn it," said Felix. "It doesn't seem reverent to do that," said Cecily.
At Salerno they caught a train which enabled them to reach Naples late in the evening. Mallard accompanied his friends to their hotel, and dined with them. As he and Spence were smoking together afterwards, the latter communicated some news which he had reserved for privacy. "By-the-bye, we hear that Cecily and her aunt are at Florence, and are coming to Rome next week." "Elgar with them?"
I know why you lie; you want to hush me up and keep quiet. You're afraid I'll go to Mr. Haguenin or Mr. Cochrane or Mr. Platow, or to all three. Well, you can rest your soul on that score. I won't. I'm sick of you and your lies. Stephanie Platow the thin stick! Cecily Haguenin the little piece of gum! And Florence Cochrane she looks like a dead fish!" I'd leave you that's what I'd do.
Cecily confided to me that she never meant to put her hair up in curlers on Saturday nights again, because it was pretending. She was so anxious to repent of something, sweet girl, and this was all she could think of. During the afternoon Judy Pineau brought up a tear-blotted note from Sara Ray. Sara had not been allowed to visit the hill farm since Peter had developed measles.
For weeks longer he was to lie there in greater danger than ever. He only seemed soothed into quiet when Cecily chanted those old Latin hymns of her Benedictine rule, and then when he could speak at all he showed himself to be in imagination praying in Eustacie's convent chapel, sure to speak to her when the service should be over.
He shrank from the meeting with Gilbert, for his conscience hurt him because of his betrayal of Gilbert's love and friendship. He had palliated his conduct by saying to himself that Gilbert had given Cecily up, but the excuse would not serve to absolve him from the sense of unfriendly behaviour. "I'm making excuses for myself," he murmured. "That's all I'm doing.
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