When Cecilia found herself outside, she stood still a moment to compose
her nerves. Thyme had told her that Hilary was in the dining-room, and
wanted specially to see her.
As in most women of her class and bringing-up, Cecilia's qualities of
reticence and subtlety, the delicate treading of her spirit, were seen
to advantage in a situation such as this. Unlike Stephen, who had shown
at once that he had something on his mind, she received Hilary with that
exact shade of friendly, intimate, yet cool affection long established
by her as the proper manner towards her husband's brother. It was
not quite sisterly, but it was very nearly so. It seemed to say: 'We
understand each other as far as it is right and fitting that we should;
we even sympathise with the difficulties we have each of us experienced
in marrying the other's sister or brother, as the case may be. We know
the worst. And we like to see each other, too, because there are bars
between us, which make it almost piquant.'
Giving him her soft little hand, she began at once to talk of things
farthest from her heart. She saw that she was deceiving Hilary, and this
feather in the cap of her subtlety gave her pleasure. But her nerves
fluttered at once when he said: "I want to speak to you, Cis. You know
that Stephen and I had a talk yesterday, I suppose?"
Cecilia nodded.
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