elaying.
Her real feeling towards him was anything but unfriendly; had it been
possible, she would have liked to see much of him, to enjoy his talk.
Young men of this stamp amused her, and made strong appeal to certain
of her sympathies. But those very sympathies enabled her to judge him
with singular accuracy, aided as she was by an outline knowledge of his
past. Her genuine affection for Cecily made her, now that the peril had
declared itself, his strenuous adversary. For Cecily to marry Reuben
Elgar would be a catastrophe, nothing less. She was profoundly
convinced of this, and the best elements of her nature came out in the
resistance she was determined to make.

A less worthy ground of vexation against Elgar might probably be
attributed to her. Skilful in judging men, she had not the same insight
where her own sex was concerned, and in the case of Cecily she was
misled, or rather misled herself, with curious persistence. Possibly
some slight, vague fear had already touched her when she favoured Mrs.
Spence with the description of her "system;" not impossibly she felt
the need of reassuring herself by making clear her attitude to one
likely to appreciate it. But at that time she had not dreamt of such a
sudden downfall of her theoretic edifice; she believed in its strength,
and did not doubt of her supreme influence with Cecily. It was not to
be wondered at that she felt annoyed with the man who, at a touch, made
the elaborate structure collapse like a bubble. She imagined Mrs.
Spence's remarks when she came to hear of what had happened, her fine
smile to her husband. The occurrence was mortifying.

"Miss Doran has put into my hands a letter she received from you this
morning, Mr. Elgar."

Reuben waited. Mrs. Lessingham had not invited him to sit down; she
also stood.

"You probably wished me to learn its contents?"

"Yes; I am glad you have read it."

"It didn't occur to you that Miss Doran might find the task you imposed
upon her somewhat trying?"

Elgar was startled. Just as little as Cecily had he pondered the
details of the situation; mere frenzy possessed him, and he acted as
desire bade. Had Cecily been embarrassed? Was she annoyed at his not
proceeding with formality? He had never thought of her in the light of
conventional obligations, and even now could not bring himself to do so.

"Did Miss Doran wish me to be told that?" he asked, bluntly, in
unconsidered phrase.

"Miss Doran's wish is, that