Part 57 (1/2)
”Yes. Well, she's the only girl, in fact--Amaranth's her name. Rather silly, but that's not her fault, is it?” He seemed anxious to forestall criticism.
”You can call her Amy--or even Aimee,” suggested the Nun consolingly.
Billy laughed. ”Have you heard it, or did you guess, Doris?”
”Guessed it. I can guess any conundrum, however baffling. I'm awfully glad, Billy. I'm sure you'll be tremendously happy. When did it happen--and when is it going to happen?”
”About a month ago--and in about three months' time. Didn't you think her pretty?”
”Very pretty,” said the Nun, presuming on a somewhat cursory inspection of Miss Amaranth. ”And I suppose that since the old man made his pile--?”
”Oh, well, there are two sons. Still--yes, that's all right.”
”It all sounds splendid. I don't fall in love myself, as I've told you--”
”Oh, I know that very well,” said Billy. ”n.o.body knows it better.”
Her eyes danced as she shook her head at him demurely. ”But I like to see young people settling down happily.”
”You are rather a queer girl in that way, Doris. Never feel that way?”
The Nun considered. ”I might go so far as to admit that I've an ideal.”
”Rather a silly thing to have in this world, isn't it?”
”Happiness makes you unsympathetic, Billy. There's no harm in an ideal if you're careful to keep it as an ideal. Of course if you try to make it practical there are awful risks.”
”And what, or who, is your ideal?”
”'Pray what is that to you?'” the Nun quoted, under the circ.u.mstances rather maliciously. ”I find having an ideal a most comfortable arrangement. It doesn't worry either him or me--and Sally can't possibly object to it. How are things at Meriton? Andy wrote me his great news, and of course I never answered. But isn't it splendid?”
”I haven't had time to go down lately.”
”Oh, of course not--now!”
”But I hear he's doing magnificently. Sure to get in. But Gilly's the best fun. When Andy is off electioneering, Gilly works like a horse.
Sandwiches in the office for lunch, with a gla.s.s of sherry from the pub round the corner! I caught him at it once; he was awfully disgusted.”
”Gilly lunching on sandwiches and a gla.s.s of sherry from the pub!” Her voice was full of wondering amazement.
”Yes, he won't hear the last of that in a hurry! When he did come to lunch the other day, we all went early and had a nice little pile of ham sandwiches and a liqueur gla.s.s of Marsala ready for him when he came in.
You should have seen his face--and not heard his language!” The unnatural brother laughed. ”You see, Andy didn't want to stand because of neglecting the business, and Gilly backed himself to take on the work so as not to stand in Andy's way. And he's doing it.”
”But that's awfully fine of Gilly, I think.”
”So it is, of course. That's why he gets so riled when anybody says anything about it.”
The Nun nodded in understanding. ”And Harry?” she asked.
”They were abroad or in Scotland all the winter; came back to town about a month ago. They've taken a flat in Clarges Street for the season, I believe.”