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Half-an-hour later Horringford rang me up to say that Alex had been particularly tiresome over some new crank which had set everybody by the ears, that Thomson was sending in a resignation daily, altogether there was the deuce to pay, and would I use my influence and talk sense to her.
"You mean that in unearthing the buried treasure of a dead past she has found the living treasure of a man's love? Yes, and not any too soon, poor silly child. Men like Horringford don't bear playing with. I wonder whether she knows how near she has been to making shipwreck of her life." "I think she knows now," said Gillian, with a little wise smile as she left the room.
She can ease off gently in the meantime and give Egypt as an excuse for finally withdrawing." "You think Alex is more to blame than Horringford?" said Miss Craven, with a note of challenge in her voice. Peters shrugged. "I blame them both. But above all I blame the system that has been responsible for the trouble." "You mean that Alex should have been allowed to choose her own husband?
She couldn't see the sterling worth of the man, so they drifted apart and Horringford retired more than ever into his shell." "And what do you propose to do, Peter?" Craven's sudden question was startling, for he had not appeared to be listening to the conversation. Peters lit a cigarette and smoked for a few moments before answering.
"Much as usual," replied Peters. "Horringford is absorbed in things Egyptian, and Alex is on the warpath again," he added darkly. Miss Craven grinned. "What is it this time?" Peters' eyebrows twitched quaintly. "Socialism!" he chuckled, "a brand new, highly original conception of that very elastic term.
It was hopeless to try and curb Miss Craven's generosity, hopeless to attempt to argue against it. "Next week," she answered the inquiry. "Tuesday, probably. They stay in Paris for a month en route; Lord Horringford wants some data from the Louvre and also to arrange some preliminaries with the French Egyptologist who is joining their party." "Hum! And Alex still interested in mummies?"
I thought Horringford was a model landlord and his estates an example to the kingdom." "Precisely. That's the humour of it. But a little detail like that wouldn't deter Alex. It will be an interest for the summer, she's always rather at a loose end when there's no hunting. She had taken up this socialistic business very thoroughly, organizing meetings and lectures.
"More than ever, she is full of enthusiasm. She talks of dynasties and tribal deities, of kings and Kas and symbols until my head spins. Lord Horringford teases her but it is easy to see that her interest pleases him. He says she is the mascot of the expedition, that she brought luck to the digging last year."
He, poor chap, was between the devil and the deep sea, for the tenants had also been complaining that they were being interfered with. So he had to go to Horringford and there was a royal row.
She was such a child " "And Horringford was such a devil of a good match," interposed Craven cynically, moving from his chair to the padded fireguard. Gillian was sitting on the arm of Miss Craven's chair, sorting the patience cards into a leather case. She looked up quickly.
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