"Oh, he has taken Cumnor Grange, three miles away, and he never comes
in to the Hollingford tea-parties now. I saw him once in the street,
but it's a question which of us tried the hardest to get out of the
other's way."
"You've not said anything about Roger, yet."
"No; I didn't know if you would care to hear. He is very much
older-looking; quite a strong grown-up man. And papa says he is much
graver. Ask me any questions, if you want to know, but I have only
seen him once."
"I was in hopes he would have left the neighbourhood by this time.
Mamma said he was going to travel again."
"I can't tell," said Molly. "I suppose you know," she continued, but
hesitating a little before she spoke, "that he wishes to see you?"
"No! I never heard. I wish he would have been satisfied with my
letter. It was as decided as I could make it. If I say I won't see
him, I wonder if his will or mine will be the strongest?"
"His," said Molly. "But you must see him; you owe it to him. He will
never be satisfied without it."
"Suppose he talks me round into resuming the engagement? I should
only break it off again."
"Surely you can't be 'talked round' if your mind is made up. But
perhaps it is not really, Cynthia?" asked she, with a little wistful
anxiety betraying itself in her face.
"It is quite made up. I am going to teach little Russian girls; and
am never going to marry nobody."
"You are not serious, Cynthia. And yet it is a very serious thing."
But Cynthia went into one of her wild moods, and no more reason or
sensible meaning was to be got out of her at the time.