He had carefully selected a seat within the shadow of the curtains;
but Jocelyn saw quite suddenly that he was an older man than she had
taken him to be the evening before. She saw through the deception
of the piteous wig--the whole art that strove to conceal the sure
decay of the body, despite the desperate effort of a mind still
fresh and vigorous.
"And I dare say," he said, with a somewhat lame attempt at cynicism,
"that you have heard no good of me?"
But Jocelyn would have none of that. She was no child to be abashed
by sarcasm, but a woman, completed and perfected by her love.
"Excuse me," she said sharply; "but that is not the truth, and you
know it. You know as well as I do that your son would never say a
word against you."
Sir John looked hastily round. Lady Cantourne had come into the
room and was talking to the two young people: Millicent was
glancing uneasily over Mr. Grubb's brainless cranium towards them.
Sir John's stiff, unsteady fingers fumbled for a moment round his
lips.
"Yes," he said, "I was wrong."
"He has always spoken of you with the greatest love and respect,"
said Jocelyn; "more than that, with admiration. But he very rarely
spoke of you at all, which I think means more."
Sir John blinked, and suddenly pulled himself together with a
backward jerk of the arms which was habitual with him.
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