Part 34 (1/2)
”Our family,” she said gently, ”can hardly be said to come so much as to have been.”
The old lady thought this over, her l.u.s.treless eyes on Anna-Felicitas's face.
The knitting lady clicked away very fast, content to leave the management of the Twinklers in more competent hands.
”How's that?” asked the old lady, finally deciding that she hadn't understood.
”It's extinct,” said Anna-Felicitas. ”Except us. That is, in the direct line.”
The old lady was a little impressed by this, direct lines not being so numerous or so clear in America as in some other countries.
”You mean you two are the only Twinklers left?” she asked.
”The only ones left that matter,” said Anna-Felicitas. ”There are branches of Twinklers still existing, I believe, but they're so unimportant that we don't know them.”
”Mere twigs,” said Anna-Rose, recovering her nerves on seeing Anna-Felicitas handle the situation so skilfully; and her nose unconsciously gave a slight Junker lift.
”Haven't you got any parents?” asked the old lady.
”We used to have,” said Anna-Felicitas flus.h.i.+ng, afraid that her darling mother was going to be asked about.
The old gentleman gave a sudden chuckle. ”Why yes,” he said, forgetting his wife's presence for an instant, ”I guess you had them once, or I don't see how--”
”Albert,” said his wife.
”We are the sole surviving examples of the direct line of Twinklers,”
said Anna-Rose, now quite herself and ready to give Columbus a hand.
”There's just us. And we--” she paused a moment, and then plunged--”we come from England.”
”Do you?” said the old lady. ”Now I shouldn't have said that. I can't say just why, but I shouldn't. Should you, Miss Heap?”
”I shouldn't say a good many things, Mrs. Ridding,” said Miss Heap enigmatically, her needles flying.
”It's because we've been abroad a great deal with our parents, I expect,” said Anna-Rose rather quickly. ”I daresay it has left its mark on us.”
”Everything leaves its mark on one,” observed Anna-Felicitas pleasantly.
”Ah,” said the old lady. ”I know what it is now. It's the foreign r.
You've picked it up. Haven't they, Miss Heap.”
”I shouldn't like to say what they haven't picked up, Mrs. Ridding,”
said Miss Heap, again enigmatically.
”I'm afraid we have,” said Anna-Rose, turning red. ”We've been told that before. It seems to stick, once one has picked it up.”
And the old gentleman muttered that everything stuck once one had picked it up, and looked resentfully at his wife.
She moved her slow eyes round, and let them rest on him a moment.