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"Whether Christina's in."
Clare smiled. "Good God, how young you are!" she said. "I was like that myself once, another life, another world. But I was never like you, never lovely as you are. I was pretty in a commonplace kind of way. Pretty enough to turn poor Peter's head. That's about all. Now listen, and I'll tell you a little about myself. Would you like to hear it?"
"I know," said Millie. "I didn't want him to. I hate secrecy and plots and mysteries. And so I told him. But it was only for a week or two. And his mother comes down from Scotland on Friday."
"Happy because of the Baronet?"
"Yes, nowat once. You have got to."
Both the women laughed. It seemed to them an excellent joke.
Her only dominant impulse then was to be out of that house, that house that reminded her with every step she took of something that she must forgetbut what she must forget she did not know.
AND PETER IN LONDON
She looked back to the cover.
[Pg 139]
"You have got on rather badly with Tallien," said Millie, "and you wouldn't have liked Barras any better."
"There's a man coming upstairs, mother, who said you'd asked him to call. He wouldn't give his name."
P.S.Don't tell Peter.
[Pg 74]
"Indeed! And would you mind telling me why, with these deficiencies, you fancied that you would make me a good secretary?"
"Yes, I know."
No one was there, only the evening sun like a kindly spirit moving from place to place, touching all with gentle, tender fingers. Strange that she could have slept for so long! She would never sleep againnever. Always would she watch, untouched, unmoved, that strange, coloured, leaping world moving round and round before her, moving for others, for their delight, their pain, but only for her scorn.
Nevertheless the living engaged his attention sufficiently. Besides Millie and Christina and Peter there were with him in the house, in actual concrete form, Sir Charles and his sister. Lady Bell-Hall had now apparently accepted Henry as an inevitable nuisance with whom God, for some mysterious reason known only to Himself, had determined still further to try her spirit. She was immensely busy here, having a thousand preoccupations connected with the house and the village that kept her happy and free from many of her London alarms. Henry admired her deeply as he watched her trotting about in an old floppy garden-hat, ministering to, scolding, listening to, admonishing the village as though it was one large, tiresome, but very lovable family. With the servants in the house it was the same thing. She knew the very smallest of their troubles, and although she often irritated and fussed them, they were not alone in the world as they would have been had Mrs. Giles, the butcher's wife, been their mistress.
"Hold on!" said Henry. "Look out, Millie! The table's very shaky and if the plates are broken King will make me pay at least twice what they're worth. You know it's a funny thing, but I'm seeing just the other side of the picture. Your people have just got all their money, my people have just lost all theirs. Before the war, so far as I can make out, Duncombe was quite well off. Most of it came from land, and that's gone down and the Income Tax has come up, and there's hardly anything left. They think they'll have to sell Duncombe Hall which has been in the family for centuries, and that will pretty well break their hearts I fancy."
All might now have been well had not Victoria most unfortunately suddenly bethought herself of Mrs. Martin.
MILLIE AND PETER