"Why, of course!"

"Not," she added, "that it would make any difference, if I was sure of it
myself. He has always said that he would not try to control me in such a
matter, and I think he would like you. I do like you very much myself,
Mr. Hewson, but I don't think it would be right to say I loved you unless
I could prove it."

Hewson was tempted to say that she could prove it by marrying him, but he
had not the heart to mock a scruple which he felt to be sacred. What he
did say was: "Then I will wait till you can prove it. Do you wish me not
to see you again, before you have made up your mind?"

"I don't know. I can't see what harm there would be in our meeting."
"No, I can't, either," said Hewson, as she seemed to refer the point to
him. "Should you mind my coming again, say, this evening?"

"To-night?" She reflected a moment. "Yes, come to-night."

When he came after dinner, Hewson was sensible from the perfect
unconsciousness of Mrs. Rock's manner that Miss Hernshaw had been telling
her. Her habit of a wandering eye, contributed to the effect she wished
to produce, if this were the effect, and her success was such that it
might easily have deceived herself. But when Mrs. Rock, in a supreme
exercise of her unconsciousness, left him with the girl for a brief
interval before it was time for him to go, Miss Hernshaw said, "Mrs. Rock
knows about it, and she says that the best way for me to find out will be
to try whether I can live without you."

"Was that Mrs. Rock's idea?" asked Hewson, as gravely as he could.