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The Wrandalls had been routed from their comfortable fireside for what? They were asking the question of themselves and they were waiting stonily for the answer. "It is very stuffy in here," Vivian had said with a glance at the closed doors after Sara had successfully placed her jury in the box. "Keep still, Viv," whispered Leslie, with a fine assumption of awe. "It's a spiritualistic meeting.
Vivian," she began, in a rather subdued voice, "that isn't a comet, that's a copper!" The bell rang again. "D'you think d'you think that can be my husband?" continued Madame, still seeming subdued. "I should like him Do you think it's him?" "What?" "The bell." "I will very soon see," replied the Prophet, in a most determined manner. "But Mr. Viv " "Don't hold me, if you please.
Viv said over the 'phone this morning that we are dining alone in state. Come along, old chap, and wake us up. What say?" A clever mind-reader could have laid bare the motive in this cordial, even eager invitation. He was seeking to play Vivian against Hetty in the game, which seemed to have taken on a new turn. Booth was not a mind-reader, although in jest he had posed as one.
But, when the first carriage reached the triumphal arch at the end of the bridge, bombs were exploded, the drums beat, saluting the monarch's arrival upon his faithful subject's domain, and the climax of irony was reached when, in the half light, a blaze of gas suddenly illuminated the roof of the château with letters of fire, over which the rain and wind caused great shadows to run to and fro, but which still displayed very legibly the legend: "Viv' L' B'Y M'H'MED."
"Just a minute, Viv," he called out. "What does Miss Castleton say about coming ?" It was an eager question. Much depended on the reply. "I haven't asked her," said his sister succinctly. "How could I, without first consulting Sara?" "Then, you don't intend to ask her?" "Certainly not." "Oh, I'll fix it up with Sara," said he confidently. "Eh, Sara?"
In any case, he had some experience of this young lady; and what was the use of combatting one of her moods at five o'clock when at six o'clock she would be arguing in the contrary direction, and at seven convinced that the viv media was the straight road?
Still, she found the frequentation of churches soothing and gave much and often to the mildly beseeching Little Sisters of the Poor when they made their rounds in town or suburbs. "What do you think about Religion, Viv old girl?" she said one day in the Eastertide of 1912, when Vivie was spending a delicious fortnight at Villa Beau-séjour.
She went away because Sara, failing in her plan to marry her off to Leslie, decided that it would be fatal to a certain project of her own if she remained on the field of action. Do I make myself clear?" "Oh, you are away off in your conclusions, Viv." "Time will tell," was her cabalistic rejoinder. Her father appeared on the lawn below and called up to them.
Wrandall acidly. He fidgetted. "I didn't hear of her illness until yesterday." "I'll go up with you, Viv," said Leslie. "No, you won't," said his sister flatly. "I'm going to apologise to her for something I said to Brandon Booth. You needn't tag along, Les."
Had a sort of notion, don't know why, that dear old Viv would be in it, up to the neck. Got mixed up in the crowd and helped a woman or two out of it. Lady Feenix they said it was picked up some and took 'em into her motor. How're the bruises?" Vivie: "Oh, they ache rather, but it is such joy to have such friends as you and Praddy and Michael Rossiter, that I don't mind what I go through..."
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