'
Michael's countenance fell.
'Difference? How?'
But Jane could not go further. She wished she had not spoken. Her
face began to grow hot, and she moved away.
'It's only your fancy,' continued Michael. 'But may be that--You
think he isn't quite so easy in his talking to you as he was?'
'I've fancied it. But it was only--'
'Well, you may be partly right,' said her grandfather, softening his
voice. 'See, Jane, I'll tell you something. I think there's no harm;
perhaps I ought to. You must know that I hadn't meant to speak to
Sidney of these things just when I did. It came about, because _he_
had something to tell _me_, and something I was well pleased to
hear. It was about you, Jane, and in that way I got talking--
something about you, my child. Afterwards, I asked him whether he
wouldn't speak to you yourself, but he said no--not till you'd
heard all that was before you. I think I understood him, and I dare
say you will, if you think it over.'
Matter enough for thinking over, in these words. Did she understand
them aright? Before leaving the room she had not dared to look her
grandfather in the face, but she knew well that he was regarding her
still with the same smile.
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