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"In the F.H.M.P., of course, I see a lot of young girls placed in delicate positions, just on the borders, don't you know? You should really join the F.H.M.P., Mrs. Dallison. It's a first-rate thing most absorbing work." The doubting deepened in Cecilia's eyes. "Oh, it must be!" she said. "I've so little time." Mrs. Tallents Smallpeace went on at once.
B. can be so disagreeable; even now she's not on terms with him! And suddenly the thought of Mr. Purcey leaped into her mind Mr. Purcey, who, as Mrs. Tallents Smallpeace had declared, was not even conscious that there was a problem of the poor. To think of him seemed somehow at that moment comforting, like rolling oneself in a blanket against a draught.
Turning the page which she had not been reading, she heaved a sigh. Thyme sighed also. "These worms are fearfully interesting," she said. "Is anybody coming in this afternoon?" "Mrs. Tallents Smallpeace was going to bring a young man in, a Signor Pozzi-Egregio Pozzi, or some such name. She says he is the coming pianist." Cecilia's face was spiced with faint amusement. Thyme snatched up her book.
'She must come back she must listen to me! she thought. 'We will begin together; we will start a nice little creche of our own, or perhaps Mrs. Tallents Smallpeace could find us some regular work on one of her committees. Then suddenly she conceived a thought which made her blood run positively cold. What if it were a matter of heredity?
"My dear," murmured Cecilia, "if you must go, do please tell Father." A minute later Mrs. Tallents Smallpeace came in, followed by a young man with an interesting, pale face and a crop of dusky hair. Let us consider for a minute the not infrequent case of a youth cursed with an Italian mother and a father of the name of Potts, who had baptised him William.
Cecilia turned and saw a woman of middle height, with her hair done in the early Italian fashion, and very small, dark, lively eyes, which looked as though her love of living would keep her busy each minute of her day and all the minutes that she could occupy of everybody else's days. "Mrs. Tallents Smallpeace? Oh! how do you do?
By the simple inversion of the first two words, the substitution of z's for t's, without so fortunately making any difference in the sound, and the retention of that i, all London knew him now to be the rising pianist. He was a quiet, well-mannered youth, invaluable just then to Mrs. Tallents Smallpeace, a woman never happy unless slightly leading a genius in strings.
"Your sister-in-law has just been to see me, Mr. Dallison. She's such a dear-so interested in everything. I tried to get her to come on to my meeting with me." Raising his hat, Hilary frowned. For once his delicacy was at fault. He said: "Ah, yes! Excuse me!" and got out. Mrs. Tallents Smallpeace looked after him, and then glanced round the omnibus.
To him it signified: 'What the deuce do you look at me for? And he felt justly hurt. He therefore said abruptly: "What would you do in a case like that?" Mrs. Tallents Smallpeace, sliding her face sideways, with a really charming little smile, asked softly: "In a case like what?" And her little eyes fled to Thyme, who had slipped into the room, and was whispering to her mother. Cecilia rose.
His mustachioed mouth wore a set smile; his cheerful face was rather red, with a forehead of no extravagant height or breadth, and a conspicuous jaw; his hair was thick and light in colour, and his eyes were small, grey, and shrewd. He was looking at a picture. "He's so delightfully unconscious," murmured Mrs. Tallents Smallpeace.
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