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She frowned, she gazed, collecting her senses, while
Raymond added, "It is to my intense grief and mortification, but I
suppose you are gratified."
"Uh, it would never do!" she exclaimed, to his surprise and
pleasure.
"Quite right," he returned. "Just what I felt. Nothing can make me
so glad as to see that you think the idea as socking as I do."
"Our going to Swanslea would be much better--far more natural, and
no one could object. We could refurnish, and make it perfect;
whereas nothing can be done to this place, so inconveniently built
and buried in trees. I should feel much freer in a place of my
own."
"So that is what you meant when I thought you were thinking of my
mother?"
"I am obliged to take thought for myself when you take heed to no
one but her," said Cecil; and as the carriage was at that moment
announced, she left him. Which was the most sick at heart it would
be hard to say, the wife with the sense that she was postponed in
everything to the mother, the husband at the alienation that had
never before been so fully expressed.


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