Jem never had in any sense of the word been her boy. His feelings for her
had passed from the distrust of childhood to the lofty contempt of a
schoolboy for all things preternaturally virtuous, finally settling down
into the more tolerant contempt of manhood. The dead, however, have
perforce to accept much affection which they scornfully refused in life.
"Poor Jem!" said Sister Cecilia to Mrs. Agar the day after that lady's
visit to Gray's Inn. "I always thought that perhaps he and dear Dora
would come to--to some understanding."
She stirred her tea with patient, suffering head inclined at a resigned
angle.
"Do you think there _was_ any understanding between them?" inquired Mrs.
Agar.
"Well--I should not like to say."
Which, being translated, meant that she would like to say, but did not
know.
It had always been a pet scheme of Mrs. Agar's that Dora should marry
Arthur; firstly, because she would have nearly two thousand pounds a year
on the death of her parents; and, secondly, because she was a capable
person with plenty of common-sense.
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