But to-day, Elma's keen eye observed that the Colonel's
glance moved quickly in a rapid dart from Cyril and Guy to his son
Granville, and back again from his son Granville to Guy and Cyril.
What was odder still, the hasty comparison seemed to redound not
altogether to Granville's credit. The Colonel paused, and stifled
a sigh as he looked; then, in spite of Mrs. Clifford's profound
attempts to retain the heir by her side, he sent the young man off
at a moment's notice to hunt up Lady Emily. Now why on earth did
he want to keep Granville and the Warings apart? Mrs. Clifford and
Elina racked their brains in vain; they could make nothing of the
mystery.
It was a long afternoon, and Elma enjoyed it, though she never got
her tete-a-tete after all with Cyril Waring. Just a rapid look, a
dart from the eyes, a faint pressure of her hand at parting--that
was all the romance she was able to extract from it, so closely
did Mrs. Clifford play her part as chaperon. But as the two young
men and Montague Nevitt hurried off at last to catch their train
back to town, the Colonel turned to Mrs. Clifford with a sigh of
relief.
"Splendid young fellows, those," he exclaimed, looking after them.
"I'm not sorry I met them.
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