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It had not, however, prevented Nanda's slipping upstairs as soon as the doctor and his wife had gone, and the manner indeed in which, on the stroke of eleven, Mr. Longdon conformed to his tradition of appropriating a particular candle was as positive an expression of it as any other.
Brook's training, some of the rest of you from being horrible," the Duchess declared. "What did you mean just now, really, by asking me to explain before Aggie this so serious matter of Nanda's exposure?" Then instantly taking herself up before Mr. Mitchett could answer: "What on earth do you suppose Edward's saying to my darling?"
Longdon turned half-round as to reply to this, but instead of replying proceeded afresh to an examination of the expressive oval in the red plush frame. He took up little Aggie, who appeared to interest him, and abruptly observed: "Nanda isn't so pretty." "No, not nearly. There's a great question whether Nanda's pretty at all." Mr.
Yet she made at the end a sort of choice in going on to Mitchy: "He hasn't at all told you the real reason of Nanda's idea that you should go in for Aggie." "Oh I draw the line there," said Vanderbank. "Besides, he understands that too." Mitchy, on the spot, did himself and every one justice. "Why it just disposes of me, doesn't it?"
That's what Tishy wants me for. She says that to be with some nice girl's really the best thing for her." Poor Mitchy's face hereupon would have been interesting, would have been distinctly touching to other eyes; but Nanda's were not heedful of it. "Oh," he returned after an instant and without profane mirth, "that seems to me the best thing for any one."
Edward appeared for a moment at a loss. "Tishy Grendon and her craze for Nanda." "Has she a craze for Nanda?" "Surely I told you Nanda's to be with her for Easter." "I believe you did," he bethought himself, "but you didn't say anything about a craze. And where's Harold?" he went on. "He's at Brander. That is he will be by dinner. He has just gone." "And how does he get there?"
What it does show, I suppose," Mr. Mitchett went on, "is that she takes no trouble to meet me." "My dear Mitchy," said Mrs. Brookenham, "what do YOU know about 'trouble' either poor Nanda's or mine or anybody's else?
He gave a sound, controlled by discretion, which sufficed none the less to make Mr. Longdon beholding him for the first time receive it with a little of the stiffness of a person greeted with a guffaw. Mr. Cashmore visibly liked this silence of Nanda's about their meeting. Mrs.
"The other is that very naturally she's in love." "With whom under the sun?" Mrs. Brookenham had, with her startled stare, met his eyes long enough to have taken something from him before he next spoke. "You really have never suspected? With whom conceivably but old Van?" "Nanda's in love with old Van?" the degree to which she had never suspected was scarce to be expressed.
"Do you mean offer him my child?" She laughed at the intonation. "There you are once more vous autres! If you're shocked at the idea you place drolement your delicacy. I'd offer mine to the son of a chimney-sweep if the principal guarantees were there. Nanda's charming you don't do her justice. I don't say Mr.
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