Mrs.Bradshaw allowed herself no conjectures; in her plain way she merely confirmed what Cecily had said, adding that Elgar had taken leave of them at the railway-station.
"Possibly Mrs.Baske knew that her brother would be there ?" surmised Mrs.Lessingham, as though the point were of no moment.
"Oh no! not a bit.

She was astonished." "Or seemed so," was Mrs.Lessingham's inward comment, as she smiled acquiescence.

"He has impressed me agree ably," she continued, "but there's a danger that he will never do justice to himself." "I don't put much faith in him myself," said Mrs.Bradshaw, meaning nothing more by the phrase than that she considered Reuben a ne'er-do-well.

The same words would have expressed her lack of confidence in a servant subjected to some suspicion.
Mrs.Lessingham was closely observant of her niece this evening, and grew confirmed in distrust, in solicitude.

Cecily was more than ever unlike herself--whimsical, abstracted, nervous; she flushed at an unexpected sound, could not keep the same place for more than a few minutes.