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Updated: April 30, 2025
From the first moment, Lady Bridget had disliked Mrs Hensor. But she had felt a vague attraction towards the little yellow-headed, blue-eyed boy clinging to Mrs Hensor's skirts. As for any uneasiness on the score of Steadbolt's insolent insinuations, she had absolutely dismissed that from her mind. Yes that bridal homecoming how strange it had seemed! How rough everything was!
Maule had no doubt that these were Lady Bridget's own. There was an upright grand piano the alleged cause of Steadbolt's conversion to Unionism, and all about the place a litter of newspapers, books and work. The room was filled with flowers sheaves of wattle and of the pale sandal-wood blossoms, as well as many sub-tropical blooms with which he was not familiar.
The veiled questions he asked about Mrs Hensor and her boy, brought back a startled remembrance of the scene outside the Fig Tree Mount Hotel and Steadbolt's vague accusation. She had almost forgotten it had never seriously thought about it. Yet now she knew the midge-bite had festered. Could it be that there was a chapter in Colin's life of which she knew nothing?
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