"Because I am not sure. But he may ask. She cannot but be flattered."

"Quite so. I tell him that it is the most practical compliment which a
man can pay to a woman. He is a little shy, but when he sets himself to
do it he will do it. He is very much in love with her, I assure you.
These little lively people always do attract the slow and heavy ones,
which is nature's device for the neutralizing of bores. But they are
all going in. I think if you will allow me that I will just take the
opportunity to tell him that, as far as you know, there is no positive
obstacle in the way."

"As far as I know," Clara repeated, as the widow moved away to where the
players were grouped round the net, or sauntering slowly towards the
house. She rose to follow her, but her head was in a whirl with new
thoughts, and she sat down again. Which would be best for Ida, Harold
or Charles? She thought it over with as much solicitude as a mother who
plans for her only child. Harold had seemed to her to be in many ways
the noblest and the best young man whom she had known. If ever she was
to love a man it would be such a man as that. But she must not think of
herself. She had reason to believe that both these men loved her
sister. Which would be the best for her? But perhaps the matter was
already decided. She could not forget the scrap of conversation which
she had heard the night before, nor the secret which her sister had
refused to confide to her. If Ida would not tell her, there was but one
person who could. She raised her eyes and there was Harold Denver
standing before her.

"You were lost in your thoughts," said he, smiling. "I hope that they
were pleasant ones."