'There were two or three reasons for secrecy.

One was the recent death of her relative the testator, though that did not apply to you.

But remember, Elfride,' he continued in a stiffer tone, 'you had mixed yourself up so foolishly with those low people, the Smiths--and it was just, too, when Mrs.Troyton and myself were beginning to understand each other--that I resolved to say nothing even to you.

How did I know how far you had gone with them and their son?
You might have made a point of taking tea with them every day, for all that I knew.' Elfride swallowed her feelings as she best could, and languidly though flatly asked a question.
'Did you kiss Mrs.Troyton on the lawn about three weeks ago?
That evening I came into the study and found you had just had candles in ?' Mr.Swancourt looked rather red and abashed, as middle-aged lovers are apt to do when caught in the tricks of younger ones.
'Well, yes; I think I did,' he stammered; 'just to please her, you know.' And then recovering himself he laughed heartily.
'And was this what your Horatian quotation referred to ?' 'It was, Elfride.' They stepped into the drawing-room from the verandah.

At that moment Mrs.Swancourt came downstairs, and entered the same room by the door.
'Here, Charlotte, is my little Elfride,' said Mr.Swancourt, with the increased affection of tone often adopted towards relations when newly produced.
Poor Elfride, not knowing what to do, did nothing at all; but stood receptive of all that came to her by sight, hearing, and touch.
Mrs.Swancourt moved forward, took her step-daughter's hand, then kissed her.
'Ah, darling!' she exclaimed good-humouredly, 'you didn't think when you showed a strange old woman over the conservatory a month or two ago, and explained the flowers to her so prettily, that she would so soon be here in new colours.