Part 30 (1/2)

”Probably--with the happy result of reducing, _pro tanto_, the practical importance of the subject, without depriving it of its speculative interest,” laughed Stephen. ”Love, union, parentage, partners.h.i.+p--it's good to have them all, but, as life goes on, a lot of people manage with the last two--or even with only the last. It grows into a pretty strong tie. Well, Winnie, you seem to have come through fairly well, and I hope you won't have much more trouble over the business.”

”I shan't have any, to speak of. I've put it all in Hobart Gaynor's hands. I went to see him and told him all he wanted to know. He's taken charge of the whole thing; I really need hear no more about it. He was awfully kind--just his dear old self.” She smiled. ”Well, short of asking me to his house, you know.”

”Oh, that's his wife,” said Tora.

”Mrs. Gaynor seems to live up to her theories, at any rate,” chuckled Stephen.

”It's not so difficult to live up to your theories about other people.

It's about yourself,” said Winnie.

”I think your going to Mrs. Lenoir's is such a perfect arrangement.”

Tora characteristically ignored the large body of opinion which would certainly be against her on the question.

”I'm very happy there--she's so kind. And I seem quite a fixture. I've been there nearly two months, and now she says I'm to go abroad with her in the spring.” She paused for a moment. ”The General's very kind too.

In fact I think he likes me very much.”

”Who's the General? I don't know about him.”

Winnie explained sufficiently, and added, ”Of course he thinks I'm just Miss Wilson. Mrs. Lenoir says it's all right, but I can't feel it's quite straight.”

”As he appears to be nearly seventy, and Mrs. Lenoir's friend, if anybody's----” Stephen suggested.

Winnie smiled and blushed a little. ”Well, you see, the truth is that it's not only the General. He's got a son. Well, he's got three, but one of them turned up about a fortnight ago.”

”Oh, did he? Where from?”

”From abroad--on long leave. It's the eldest--the Major.”

”Does he like you very much too, Winnie?”

Winnie looked across the lawn. ”It seems just conceivable that he might--complicate matters,” she murmured. ”I haven't spoken to Mrs.

Lenoir about that--aspect of it.”

Stephen was swift on the scent of another problem. ”Oh, and you mean, if he did--well, show signs--how much ought he to be told about Miss Wilson?”

”Yes. And perhaps even before the signs were what you'd call very noticeable. Wouldn't it be fair? Because he doesn't seem to me at all a--a theoretical kind of person. I should think his ideas are what you might call----”

”Shall we say traditional--so as to be quite impartial towards the Major?”

”Yes. And especially about women, I should think.”

Stephen looked across at his wife, smiling. ”Well, Tora?”

Without hesitation Tora gave her verdict. ”If you'd done things that you yourself knew or thought to be disgraceful, you ought to tell him before he grows fond of you. But you're not bound to tell him what you've done, on the chance of his thinking it disgraceful, when you don't.”

”I expect it's more than a chance,” Winnie murmured.

”I'm groping after Tora's point. I haven't quite got it. From the Major's point of view, in the hypothetical circ.u.mstances we're discussing, what's of importance is not what Winnie thinks, but what he does.”