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She wrote him the next day as frankly and affectionately as if there had been no estrangement between them, and besides telling him how she rejoiced in his triumph begged him in charity to let them know exactly how the case stood with regard to Mrs. Churchley. Late in the summer afternoon she walked through the park to the village with her letter, posted it and came back.
When they took leave she gave Mrs. Churchley, without intention and without defiance, but from the simple sincerity of her pain, a longer look into the eyes than she had ever given her before. Mrs. Churchley's onyx pupils reflected the question as distant dark windows reflect the sunset; they seemed to say: "Yes, I AM, if that's what you want to know!"
She kept by him for a moment in silence; then she broke out: "What do you mean? What in the world have I done to you?" "She would have helped me. She was all ready to help me," Godfrey portentously said. "Helped you in what?" She wondered what he meant; if he had made debts that he was afraid to confess to his father and of all horrible things had been looking to Mrs. Churchley to pay.
When she came down to the breakfast-room her father was already in his place with newspapers and letters; and she expected the first words he would utter to be a rebuke to her for having disappeared the night before without taking leave of Mrs. Churchley. Then she saw he wished to be intensely kind, to make every allowance, to conciliate and console her.
The girl saw her father sit down, but she wandered away, turning her back and pretending to look at a picture. She was so far from agreeing with Mrs. Churchley that it was an hour she particularly disliked. She was conscious of the queerness, the shyness, in London, of the gregarious flight of guests after a dinner, the general sauve qui peut and panic fear of being left with the host and hostess.
Mrs. Churchley had every intention of getting, as she would have said she was perpetually using the expression into touch; but her good intentions were as depressing as a tailor's misfits. She could never understand that they had no place for her vulgar charity, that their life was filled with a fragrance of perfection for which she had no sense fine enough.
Churchley, you know." She saw his poor pink face turn pale. "How do you know?" "I've seen with my eyes. We've been dining there we've just come home. He's in love with her. She's in love with HIM. They'll arrange it." "Oh I say!" Godfrey exclaimed, incredulous. "He will, he will, he will!" cried the girl; and with it she burst into tears.
"What reason has she given?" "None at all or half a dozen; it's the same thing. She has changed her mind she mistook her feelings she can't part with her independence. Moreover he has too many children." "Did he tell you this?" the girl asked. "Mrs. Churchley told me. She has gone abroad for a year." "And she didn't tell you what I said to her?" Godfrey showed an impatience.
They never had to name her together they only said "she"; and Nutkins freely conceded that she had taught him everything he knew. When Beatrice and Muriel said "she" they referred to Mrs. Churchley. Adela had reason to believe she should never marry, and that some day she should have about a thousand a year.
"I'll give everything up for YOU," were the words that issued from behind it. "DO stay a little. I always think this is such a nice hour. One can really talk," Mrs. Churchley went on. The Colonel laughed; he said it wasn't fair. But their hostess pressed his daughter. "Do sit down; it's the only time to have any talk."
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