and sympathy. [199] [199] “He is very, very good to me,” she said, quietly. “He studies me as I have never been studied before. All my wishes are forestalled: he thinks of everything, he does everything. I cannot tell you how good he is. I have never known anything like it before. Did you ever see anyone more surrounded by beauty and luxury than I am?” He looked at her steadily. She knew that she had evaded his question—a question he had no right to put, as she could not but feel—and that he knew she had done so. “Ah!” he murmured, “the gilded cage, the gilded cage; but only a cage, after all. Monica, forgive me for expressing a doubt; but I know the man so well, and my whole soul revolts at seeing you dragged as it [200]were at his chariot wheels for all the world to look at and admire. To take you from your wild free home, and bribe you into submission—I hate to think of it!” [200] Monica’s cheek had flushed suddenly; but before she could frame a rejoinder the door opened to admit Randolph. He carried in his hand some hot-house flowers, which he had brought for his wife. He stopped short when he saw who was Monica’s guest, and her cheek flamed anew, for she knew he would not understand how she came to receive him in her private room, and she felt that by a want of firmness and savoir faire she had allowed herself to be placed in a false position. Conrad’s exit was effected with more despatch than dignity, yet he contrived in his farewell words to insinuate that he had [201]passed a very happy morning with his hostess, instead of a brief ten minutes. [201] Randolph did not speak a word, but stood leaning against the chimney-piece with a stern look on his handsome face. Monica was angry with herself and with Conrad, yet she felt half indignant at the way her husband ignored her guest. “Monica,” said Randolph, speaking first, “I am sorry to have to say it; but I cannot receive Sir Conrad Fitzgerald as a guest beneath my roof.” “You had better give your orders, then, accordingly.” He stepped forward and took her hand. “Surely, Monica, you cannot have any real liking for this man?”
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