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In the first place he went to look up some of the older "hewers," men who had been for years in the employ of the Tressadys. Two or three of them had just come back from the early shift, and their wives, at any rate, were pleased and flattered by George's call. But the men sat like stocks and stones while he talked.
However, when the luncheon gong had sounded and they were strolling back to the house, he bethought himself, knit his brows again, and said to her: "Do you know, darling, Dalling told me this morning" Dalling was the Tressadys' principal agent "that he thought it would be a good thing if we could make friends with some of the people here?
To-night, almost for the first time, she could bear to think of it; she could even smile at it. Vanity and ambition alone had been concerned, and to-night these wild beasts of the heart were soothed and placable. Well, it was no great match, of course if it came off. All that Aunt Watton knew about the Tressadys had been long since extracted from her by her niece.
The Tressadys, in the privacy of their own room, began to say to each other: "I like her she'll do!" "She's very complacent," Molly would say with a sigh. "But it's nothing to the way Belle effervesces all over the place!" "Oh, I suppose she is simply trying to make a good impression that's all." And Mrs.
In another moment he was making his way slowly back to her. "Ah, there's Tressady! Now for news." The remark was Naseby's. He and Lady Madeleine were, as it happened, inspecting the very French pictures that the girl had just refused to look at in Ancoats's company. But now they hurried back to the main drawing-room where the Tressadys were already surrounded by an eager crowd.
Watton's numerous letters there dropped out the fact that Letty Sewell was expected immediately at a country house in North Mercia whereof a certain Mrs. Corfield was mistress a house only distant some twenty miles from the Tressadys' estate of Ferth Place. "My sister-in-law has recovered with remarkable rapidity," said Mrs. Watton, raising a sarcastic eye.
A house in town, of course and not in Warwick Square, where, apparently, the Tressadys owned a house, which had been let, and was now once more in Sir George's hands. That might do for Lady Tressady if, indeed, she could afford it when her son had married and taken other claims upon him.
"My dear, as I have often before remarked to you, I am not a great lady, with a political campaign to tight. If you knew your business, you would make friends with the mammon of unrighteousness in the shape of Lady Tressadys. I may do what I please I have only a husband to manage!" and Betty's light voice dropped into a sigh. "Poor Betty!" said Marcella, patting her hand.
This was Peter Porter, who, with his wife, completed the little group on the Tressadys' roomy, shady side porch. "It means my cousin who runs a fruit store," supplied Mrs. Porter a big-boned, superb blonde who was in a deep chair sewing buttons on Timothy Tressady's new rompers. "Even I can see that if I'm not a native of California." "Yes, that's it," Mrs. Tressady said absently.
The Tressadys stopped playing double Canfield and polished up their bridge game; and Big Hong, beaming in his snowy white, served meals that were a joy to his heart. Hong was a marvellous cook; Hong cared beautifully for all his domain; and Little Hong took care of the horses, puttered in the garden, swept, and washed windows.