An odious suspicion darted into the young man's mind. He suddenly felt both angry and disgusted. After all this constant dwelling on other people and their affairs must often lead to ridiculous and painful mistakes, to unwarrantable suspicions. 'You surely cannot mean----' he began rather sternly, and waited for her to speak. 'I was thinking of Sir George Downing,' she answered, meeting his perturbed look with one of calm confidence. 'Surely, Lord Wantley, now that I have suggested the idea, you must admit that they are greatly interested in one another? At no time of my life have I seen much of lovers; but, though I have not wished in any way to watch Penelope and this gentleman, and though I have, of course, said nothing to my niece Cecily, it has seemed to me quite dear that there is an attachment. In fact'--she spoke with growing courage, emboldened by his silence--'I have no doubt about my cousin's feelings. Would not the marriage be a suitable one? Of course there must be a certain difference of age between them, but she seems, indeed I am sure she is, so very devoted to him.' 'I confess the thought of such a thing never occurred to me.' Wantley spoke slowly, unwillingly; and even while he uttered the words there came to him, as in an unbroken, confirmatory chain, the memory of little incidents, words spoken by Penelope, others left unsaid, her altered manner to himself--much unwelcomed evidence that Miss Wake had been perhaps clear-sighted when they had all been blind. He felt a sudden pang of pity for his cousin, a feeling as if he had suddenly seen, through an open door, a sight not meant for his eyes. For a moment he deliberated as to whether he should tell Miss Wake of the one fact which made impossible any happy ending to what she believed was true of the relations between Mrs. Robinson and Sir George Downing. 'I think I ought to tell you,' he said at length, 'that a marriage between them is out of the question. Sir George Downing has a wife living. They are separated, but not divorced.' There was a painful moment of silence; then he added hastily: 'I know that my cousin is fully aware of the fact.' Then, to his relief, Miss Wake spoke as he would have had her speak. 'If that is so,' she cried,' I have been utterly mistaken, and I beg your and Penelope's pardon. It is easy to make mistakes of the kind. You see, I have lived so long out of the world.' There was a note of appeal in the thin, high voice. 'But indeed,' said Wantley quickly, 'my cousin is very unconventional, and your mistake was a natural one. I myself, had I not known the circumstances, would probably have come to the same conclusion.' Their eyes met, and for a brief moment unguarded glances gave the lie to their spoken words. CHAPTER X 'On ne choisit pas la femme que l'on doit aimer.' I