A mischievous twinkle sparkled in Sylvia’s eyes. She pointed a small finger at him.
“Jealous?” He ruminated. “You think so? I have never, to my knowledge, experienced the sensation,--but you may be right! It would be curious and--er--interesting! You may perhaps recall that once--once upon a time--in this very garden--you asked me if I would like you to marry Jack Durham,--and I believe I answered, ‘Not just yet.’ You were very kind to me in those days--much kinder than you are now. I suppose you had not perceived my bad points. Anyhow, when I said ‘Not just yet’--as applied to young Durham, I would say the same again, only more emphatically, with regard to old Durham--”
“Mr. Craig!” Her voice thrilled with vexation and hurt. “How can you imagine--”
“That old Durham might wish to marry you and leave you the vast fortune he is rumoured to possess?” finished the Philosopher, placidly. “Nothing more natural and simple, his son being dead--”
“No,” she exclaimed, with quick intensity. “He is not dead! I am sure of it! Please do not say that word again!”
“I will not if you find it objectionable--” he said, gently. “But here again you allow your sentiment to run away with you. You imagine--or let us say you hope for, news that you are not likely to hear. I am--yes, I admit I am rather surprised that you concern yourself so much with that ‘missing’ young man.”
“Anyway,” he resumed with a patiently resigned air, “you must own that Papa Durham is very attentive, and there is no doubt he is extremely fond of you. I also am very attentive--surely you notice that?--and I am very fond of you too!--so really you have nothing to complain of. Now, have you?”
A little wistful smile quivered on her lips.
“No!” she answered. “I should be sorry to complain.”
“That’s right! You know”--here he knocked the ashes out of his pipe and prepared to fill it afresh--“you know--or you might try to understand that I really want to be nice to you--”
“Of course I do! Naturally I have my own ways of being nice; and they are not like the ways of ordinary people. I have seen life, and I know that it is rather difficult to live it,--with satisfaction to one’s self. For a solitary man it is hard,--but for a solitary woman it is harder.”