" And then I took Hubert
into the garden and showed him the flowers. I don't think he cares much
about flowers; he pretended, but I could see it was only to please me. Then
I knew that he liked me, for when I told him I was going to feed the swans,
he said he loved swans and begged to be allowed to come too. I don't think
a man would say that if he didn't like you, do you?'
Emily's mind seemed to contain nothing but memories of Hubert. What he had
said on this occasion, how he had looked at her on another. The
conversation paused and Emily sunned herself in the enchantment of
recollection, until at last breaking forth again, she said--
'Have you noticed how Ethel Eastwick goes after him? And the odd part of it
is, that she can't see that he dislikes her. He thinks nothing of her
singing; he remained talking to me in the conservatory the whole time. I
asked him to come into the drawing-room, but he pretended to misunderstand
me, and asked me if I felt a draught. He said, "Let me get you a shawl." I
said, "I assure you, Hubert, I don't feel any draught." But he would not
believe me, and said he could not allow me to sit there without something
on my shoulders. I begged of him not to move, for I knew that Ethel would
never forgive me if I interrupted her singing; but he said he could get me
a wrap without interrupting any one.
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