Ada said with a pout, "O, but you must!" and Mrs Bennett came to the
rescue with the unconsciousness which constituted a real charm in
Anthony's eyes.
"It will be too hot for us to drive there just yet. Ada and I must go
some day when I am a little less overdone and the weather is cooler."
Mr Bennett was sufficiently shrewd to be alive both to the jar and to a
perception that the subject was one which had better be allowed to drop.
"It is hot, as you say, my dear, and perhaps it would be as well to wait
until Mannering is about again. Try a little of that Sauterne, Miles;
capital stuff for this weather. Well, Ada, what have you been doing
with yourself? Warren told me he had seen you at the station."
It was Ada's turn to look discomposed.
"The station? O yes, I remember. I walked across to see whether the
Mannerses came by the four-o'clock train. I forgot that I had been out
of the garden when you asked me," she said, with an elaboration of
openness which was unnecessary, as Anthony had no suspicions to be
allayed.
"O, he's been asking you, has he?" said Mr Bennett jocosely. "It's
lucky you can explain yourself, or poor Warren would have put his foot
in it."
"Mr Warren!" said Ada with scorn.
"Come, come, what has the poor man done? Upon my word, I should have
thought young ladies would consider him a good-looking, agreeable young
fellow. I am sure you did when you first knew him, Ada, eh?"
"I don't know what I thought once," said Ada, looking down, and smiling
prettily again; "all I know is that I don't admire him now."
If Anthony wanted mollifying,--which was perhaps not the case, although
this family party had not seemed to go quite as smoothly as those which
had preceded it,--this little speech effected its purpose. He liked the
covert homage, and, congratulating himself upon the good-humour which
Mr Bennett's rather trying allusions could not ruffle, roused himself
into the old brightness which only now came in occasional flashes. Ada
was enchanted, shook back her long curl, and put out all her
attractions; and Anthony, walking home through the quiet lanes sweet
with the dewy freshness of a summer night, dreamed his new dream with a
better success. Only, alas, even in dreams there are jangled notes,
struggles, interruptions. People's faces come and go, and look sadly at
us, changing often, just as the joy of their presence makes itself felt.
Every now and then out of Ada's face other eyes looked at him; eyes
that were grave and true and tender, and full of a trust that had never
failed, although he had read it wrongly.