meet Captain Fielding's eyes, and incapable of speech, I sought comfort in silence.
“I assure you, Mr. Dagliesh,” my sister replied after an instant, “we have seen nothing of Mr. Sidmouth. Though I should dearly relish the opportunity; I had not the strength to thank him as I ought, the day we parted from High Down Grange.”
A short silence fell at this; and I seized the moment to observe Captain Fielding, the better to know his thoughts. That Mr. Sidmouth was an intimate at Wings cottage must make him wonder; and yet his face bore no outward sign of concern. He seemed not quite at ease, however; he was not glad in Dagliesh's company. Though it may have been my imagination supplied what Nature failed to do.
“I might yet have the pleasure of joining you, all the same,” the Captain said then, as though continuing a previous thought; I might persuade you both to drive out in my barouche5 when you tire of your visit to the cliffs. Crawford's pits are not far off my road home. When my business is concluded, I shall venture your way, and enquire if a drive is pleasing.”
“You are all consideration, Captain,” I told him. “I am sure a gende turn in the sea air should do Cassandra a world of good.”
“And what is your opinion, Dagliesh?”
“I do not think her quite recovered. Indeed, had I been asked, I should have advised against even the trip to Crawford's,” the surgeon replied. He folded his arms across his chest, and studied the worn drugget, his countenance gaining a most mulish aspect. “The jolting of a carriage can only revive her injuries. It is not to be thought of.”
“Oh, come, man!” Fielding cried with impatience. “She is in the bloom of health. She is quite obviously well. Are not you well, Miss Austen?”
“Indeed, I feel myself to be not indisposed,” Cassandra said, faltering, with an eye for Mr. Dagliesh. “I grow quite weary of sitting always within doors.”
“And how do the roads, Captain Fielding, that you intend traversing? Are they rutted and poor, such as should incommode my sister?” I enquired.
“The roads are capital,”6 he said with a dismissive wave, “and my barouche even better. You shall not suffer the slightest jolt, Miss Austen, I assure you. Dagliesh cannot know anything of the matter; he is hardly accustomed to the sort of conveyance I own, and mistakes its effects for his own poor trap.”
The intended rudeness of the remark struck home; Mr. Dagliesh coloured, bit his lip, and as abruptly rose.
“I see that I have offered an opinion where none is wanted,” he burst out. “I shall take care before offering the same again. My compliments, Miss Austen, Miss Jane Austen.”7 And with the briefest of nods to the Captain, he quitted the room, to our surprise and dismay.
“A touchy fellow!” Fielding said, with a hollow laugh; but his words were drowned in some commotion from the hallway, and the sound of men's voices too indistinct for comprehension. Another moment of suspense, and the door was thrown wide to admit a caller, and a gen-tleman—none other than Mr. Sidmouth!
Captain Fielding turned—saw him—and turned away. He had declined to offer any greeting, and the insult must be felt Mr. Sidmouth, however, appeared insensible of Fielding's very presence, and maintained his careful expression of good breeding. That he maintained it with difficulty, I guessed from the rapid flexing of his fingers, and clutched my own hands involuntarily.
“Mr. Sidmouth!” I cried, in some anxiety of spirit. “You honour us indeed, with so early a visit!”
“I must apologise if my presence has in any way disturbed the course of your morning,” he replied, with a glance for Fielding. I am come to enquire of Miss Austen's health, and should have setded the point with the housemaid at the very door, did not I encounter Dag-liesh, and learn that you were even now entertaining a visitor. It is a pleasure indeed, Miss Austen, to find you in such good looks. I trust you shall be journeying to Mr. Crawford's today.”
“Thank you, Mr. Sidmouth. That 1 am present at all, I am sure is due to your good offices.” Cassandra spoke all the warmth of her gratitude; and I saw Fielding's surprise. That she bore no reservations towards Geoffrey Sidmouth was evident in her attitude of eager attention; that I had imparted nothing of all he had told me, to my dearest sister, was clear in her unguarded thanks.