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And what is Barbara about? She ought to be seeing to you." "Barbara is down with Uncle Dennis." Lady Casterley set her jaw; then looking her grandson through and through, said: "I shall take you down there this very day. I shall have the sea to you. What do you say, Clifton?" "His lordship does look pale." "Have the carriage, and we'll go from Clapham Junction.
"By God! Be silent!" And weirdly, there was silence. It was not the brutality of the words, but the sight of force suddenly naked of all disguise like a fierce dog let for a moment off its chain which made Barbara utter a little dismayed sound. Lady Casterley had dropped into a chair, trembling. And without a look Miltoun passed her.
Again Barbara gave him that imperceptible and flattering touch. "Well, this is all very mysterious. I shall find out for myself. You know her, my dear. You must take me to see her." "Dear Granny! If people hadn't pasts, they wouldn't have futures." Lady Casterley let her little claw-like hand descend on her grand-daughter's thigh.
Lord Valleys controlled a yawn. "Really? I'd no idea Courtier had any influence." "He is dangerous. Most idealists are negligible-his book was clever." "I wish to goodness we could see the last of these scares, they only make both countries look foolish," muttered Lord Valleys. Lady Casterley raised her glass, full of a bloody red wine. "The war would save us," she said. "War is no joke."
Close by the statue of Diana Lady Casterley was standing, gazing down at some flowers, a tiny, grey figure. Barbara sighed. With her, in her dream, had been another buzzard hawk, and she was filled with a sort of surprise, and queer pleasure that ran down her in little shivers while she bathed and dressed.
"Look out, then!" There was a sort of warm flurry round her, a rush, a heave, a scramble; she was beyond the stile. The bull and Barbara, a yard or two apart, were just the other side. Lady Casterley raised her handkerchief and fluttered it. The bull looked up; Barbara, all legs and arms, came slipping down beside her.
"No," said Barbara. "Ha!" They proceeded some little way farther before Lady Casterley said suddenly: "She is deep." "And dark," said Barbara. "I am afraid you were not good!" Lady Casterley glanced upwards. "I detest this habit," she said, "amongst you young people, of taking nothing seriously. Not even bulls," she added, with a grim smile. Barbara threw back her head and sighed.
The unembarrassed Barbara began at once: "We've just had an encounter with a bull. This is my grandmother, Lady Casterley." The little old lady's demeanour, confronted with this very pretty face and figure was a thought less autocratic and abrupt than usual. Her shrewd eyes saw at once that she had no common adventuress to deal with. She was therefore both wary and affable.
Lady Casterley suffered a gesture of exasperation to escape her. "Good heavens!" she said; "every common person is interested in a woman whose position is anomalous. Living alone as you do, and not a widow, you're fair game for everybody, especially in the country." Mrs. Noel's sidelong glance, very clear and cynical, seemed to say: "Even for you."
The remembrance too of how tired, how sacredly tired she had been, and of how she had smiled all the time with her inner joy of being tired for him. The sound of the bell startled her. His telegram had said, the afternoon! She determined to show nothing of the trouble darkening the whole world for her, and drew a deep breath, waiting for his kiss. It was not Miltoun, but Lady Casterley.
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