How often most he picture these results, and convince himself of the impossibility of anything of the kind?
He knew her better than did Mrs.Lessingham; oh, far better! He had detected in her deep eyes the sleeping passion, some day to awake with suddenness and make the whole world new to her.

He knew how far from impossible it was that Reuben Elgar should be the prince to break her charmed slumber.

There was the likeness and the unlikeness; common to both that temperament of enthusiasm.

On the one hand, Cecily with her unsullied maidenhood; and on the other, Elgar with his reckless experiences--contrasts which so commonly have a mutual attraction.
There was the singularity of their meeting after years, and seeing each other in such a new light; the interest, the curiosity inevitably resulting.

What likelihood that any distrust would mingle with Cecily's warmth of feeling, were that feeling once excited?
He knew her too well.
How Mrs.Lessingham regarded Elgar he did not know.