When Lady Macleod had gone Alice sat alone for an hour thinking of what had passed between them,--thinking rather of those two men, the worthy man and the wild man, whose names had been mentioned in close connection with herself. John Grey was a worthy man, a man worthy at all points, as far as she knew him. She told herself it was so. And she told herself, also, that her cousin George was wild,--very wild. And yet her thoughts were, I fear, on the whole more kindly towards her cousin than towards her lover. She had declared to her aunt that John Grey would be incapable of such suspicion as would be shown by any objection on his part to the arrangements made for the tour. She had said so, and had so believed; and yet she continued to brood over the position which her affairs would take, if he did make the objection which Lady Macleod anticipated. She told herself over and over again, that under such circumstances she would not give way an inch. "He is free to go," she said to herself. "If he does not trust me he is quite free to go." 
When Lady Macleod had gone Alice sat alone for an hour thinking of those two men, the worthy man and the wild man.
John Grey was a worthy man, she told herself. And she told herself, also, that her cousin George was very wild. And yet her thoughts were, I fear, more kindly towards her cousin than towards her lover.
She had declared to her aunt that John Grey would be incapable of suspicion over the arrangements made for the tour. She believed it; and yet she continued to brood over what would happen if he did object. She told herself over and over again, that under such circumstances she would not give way an inch.
She said to herself, "If he does not trust me he is quite free to go." 