“Heaven forbid! Why, mother, I didn't say she was alone with him; her father was of the party.”
“Then surely you are distressing1 yourself more than you need. She goes to London with her papa, and Mr. Coventry happens to go up the same day; that is really all.”
“Oh, but, mother, it was no accident. I watched his face, and there was no surprise when he came up with his luggage and saw her.”
Mrs. Little pondered for a minute, and then said, “I dare say all her friends knew she was going up to London to-day; and Mr. Coventry determined2 to go up the same day. Why, he is courting her: my dear Henry, you knew before to-day that you had a rival, and a determined one. If you go and blame her for his acts, it will be apt to end in his defeating you.”
“Will it? Then I won't blame her at all.”
“You had better not till you are quite sure: it is one way of losing a high-spirited girl.”
“I tell you I won't. Mother!”
“Well, dear?”
“When I asked leave to come to the station and see her off, she seemed put out.”
“Did she forbid you?”
“No; but she did not like it somehow. Ah, she knew beforehand that Coventry would be there.”
“Gently, gently! She might think it possible, and yet not know it. More likely it was on account of her father. You have never told him that you love his daughter?”
“No.”
“And he is rather mercenary: perhaps that is too strong a word; but, in short, a mere3 man of the world. Might it not be that Grace Carden would wish him to learn your attachment
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