"But I--I am not sorry." "Thank you," said Lord Wyverton, and he stooped with an odd little smile, and kissed first one and then the other of the hands he held.
* * * * * No one, save Phyllis, knew of the contract made on that golden morning in June on the edge of the flowering meadows; and even to Phyllis only the bare outlines of the interview were vouchsafed.
That she was free, and that Lord Wyverton felt no bitterness over his disappointment, he himself assured her.

He uttered no word of reproach.
He did not so much as hint that she had given him cause for complaint.

He was absolutely composed, even friendly.
He barely mentioned her sister's interference in the matter, and he said nothing whatsoever as to her singular method of dealing with the situation.

It was Molly who briefly imparted this action of hers, and her manner of so doing did not invite criticism.
Thereafter she went back to her multitudinous duties without an apparent second thought, shouldering her burden with her usual serenity; and no one imagined for a moment what tumultuous hopes and doubts underlay her calm exterior.
Lord Wyverton left the place, and the general aspect of things returned to their usual placidity.
The announcement of the engagement of the vicar's eldest daughter to Jim Freeman, the doctor's assistant in the neighbouring town, created a small stir among the gossips.

It was generally felt that, good fellow as young Freeman undoubtedly was, pretty Phyllis Neville might have done far better for herself.