Part 49 (2/2)

We talked a lot, too--I told them about Theobald's.

' His voice was so soft she hardly heard it.

”And did you think about Penrose?

' It seemed a funny question for him to ask, but she answered it at once.

”Well, yes as a matter of fact, I did--I tried to imagine what he would have done if he'd been there.

' She laughed a little.

”He didn't.

' She wasn't given the chance to finish what she had intended to say--that he hadn't even seemed real to her, certainly she wouldn't have been so sure that he would come to their rescue-Sarre interrupted her: ”I've been very selfish.

' He was bending over her arm, feeling the bones gently.

”Why don't you go to England for a week or two, visit your grandmother and look up your H friends at Theobald's?

' His voice was very level.

She gave him a surprised look and felt her heart sliding down into her slippers.

He wanted her out of the way--probably she bored him stiff when they were alone together; indeed, she reflected, that must be the case, for they were so seldom alone nowadays.

Pride stiffened her, it stiffened her voice too.

”T'd love that--just for a few days.

Would you mind if I did?

' She wasn't looking at him, and only heard his voice, bland and

impersonal.

”Not in the least.

' They had their supper presently, fussed over by Al, each course

served with an urgent message from Mrs McCrea that they were to eat all

of it.

They talked about the evening's happenings and Sarre told Alethea that he had already telephoned and arranged for the ruined old place to be boarded up and locked.

”Before someone else does the same thing,” he explained.

”T can't think what got into the children.

' He sighed.

”T suppose they will have to be punished.

' ”No, please don't--I expect it was curiosity, you know what children

are, and they were so frightened, that was punishment enough.

' ”Very well, if you say so, my dear.

Presumably in their own good time, I shall discover the right of the

matter.

' Sarre discovered it sooner than he had expected.

Alethea had gone upstairs and wished the children goodnight and

although they had begged her to stay and talk she had kissed them fondly, pointed out that their father had said that they were to stay in bed and go to sleep, and promised that they would all have a nice talk in the morning.

She had barely regained her own room when they were out of bed and, dressing gowned and slippered, on their stealthy way down to their father's study.

<script>