Part 15 (1/2)

”Not I. I forget everything directly. 'In at one ear, out at another,'

Digby says. But I want to be great friends with you, so do not let us quarrel about that stupid old story.”

It was a relief to Salome to hear Stevens's voice calling her, and announcing that ”Mrs. Loftus” was going, and Miss Wilton was to come down directly.

It seemed delightful to be left alone; and Mrs. Wilton lay back in her chair, and in the gathering twilight Salome saw she was quietly crying.

She stole up to her, and, sitting down on a low stool, said, ”You were glad to see Lady Monroe, mother. She is _so_ kind.”

”Yes, very kind; and I must make an effort to drive with her to-morrow, as she has asked me; but--”

”Oh yes, dear mother, you _must_ go. Aunt Anna was rather too much for you. It was a pity that they all came at once, as you have seen no one for so long.”

”Yes; and it brought the past back. But I will try to be patient.”

”You are patient, mother dear,” Salome said.

Ada now drew near the fire, and began: ”I like Louise very much. She wants me to go to Edinburgh Crescent to-morrow to play tennis in the square. May I, mother? I can walk as far as the turn to the college with Reginald.”

”I think we ought to begin with the children's lessons,” Salome said, ”and settle down. They are getting very unruly, just because they miss Miss Barnes's hand.”

”It is no use beginning in the middle of a week,” Ada said; ”and I suppose I may have some lessons too--music lessons I do want.”

”We shall see our way in time, darling,” Mrs. Wilton said; ”and I must try to manage about a piano. But I think Salome is right about the children; they ought to begin regular lessons. Mrs. Pryor complains of their running so much up and down stairs. She says it wears out the carpet.”

”Mrs. Pryor is a most disagreeable woman,” said Ada. ”I certainly do agree with Raymond that we ought to remove.”

”Nonsense, Ada. Think of all the trouble over again, and all our things just settled in and unpacked.”

She was interrupted by Reginald rus.h.i.+ng in from the college. He was full of life and spirit; and had found Rugby boys were thought something of, as the head-master himself and several of the a.s.sistant-masters were Rugbians. He had taken an excellent place; and, altogether, the world seemed to smile on Reginald.

Raymond followed his brother in about ten minutes, and threw himself into a chair and yawned.

”Are you very tired, dear?” asked his mother.

”I should think I was. The air of that hole in Harstone is enough to choke a fellow. I don't believe you have any idea of the stuffy air; and such dirty clerks at the desks--a set of cads!”

”One isn't a cad anyhow,” said Reginald. ”His brother is in my form. His name is Percival.”

”Oh, I know; his coat out at elbows, and his hair like a mop. I should say he was the greatest cad of the lot.”

”That I know he isn't,” said Reginald hotly. ”He may be shabby--for his people are poor, and there are heaps of children--but I am certain Ralph Percival's brother isn't a cad.”

”You needn't put yourself out about it,” Raymond said. ”Not one of the clerks is anything to me. I don't speak to them.”

”I daresay as you get higher in the office you will find the cla.s.s better. Mr. Warde's nephew and his two sons are in it. Uncle Loftus told me so.”

”Any letters for me by the second post?” asked Raymond.

”No, dear. Whom did you expect to hear from?”