Not for a moment did French doubt the honour or the integrity of a man, who had done him personally many a kindness, and had moreover given him some reason to think---( he recalled the odd little note he had received from Buntingford before Helena's first week-end)--that if he were to fall in love with Helena, his suit would be favourably watched by Helena's guardian.

He could recall moreover one or two quite recent indications on Buntingford's part--very slight and guarded--which seemed to point in the same direction.
All very well: Buntingford himself might be quite heart-whole and might remain so.

French, who knew him well, though there was fourteen years between them, was tolerably certain--without being able to give any very clear reason for the conviction--that Buntingford would never have undertaken the guardianship of Helena, had the merest possibility of marrying her crossed his mind.

French did not believe that it had ever yet crossed his mind.

There was nothing in his manner towards her to suggest anything more than friendship, deepening interest, affectionate responsibility--all feelings which would have shown themselves plainly from the beginning had she allowed it.
But Helena herself?
It was clear that however much they might still disagree, Buntingford had conquered her original dislike of him, and was in process of becoming the guide, philosopher, and friend her mother had meant him to be.