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She let me pay for the nurse's board, and that was all. The baby didn't eat anything, you see, and they were comfortably off, with lots of spare room in their house, and I just looked on it as a sort of temporary visit until I came back until I should be able to turn round a bit. But" with another sigh "he's there yet." Miss Urquhart nodded, with an air of utter wisdom.
"It would be awfully good, awfully ingenious and all that, if one of the people was twice twelve and a half." She agreed. "Yes, I should like that. Very likely one of them is." Lancelot looked extremely serious. "Not Mr. Urquhart?" he said. "No," said Lucy, "I am sure Mr. Urquhart is older than that. But there's Margery Dacre. She might do."
I have to keep Lancelot supplied you know." No man has so little self-esteem as to suppose that a woman can definitely put him away. Urquhart had plenty, and preferred to think that she thrust him more deeply within her heart. "Quite right," he said, and exerted himself on her amusement. James, coming home early, found him on the hearth-rug, talking really well about his flying.
Just as if I were to hire Streater, say, to buy really beautiful photographs of actresses for me!... Well, suppose he didn't like the things I bought for him? Suppose our tastes didn't agree? Should I have to try and suit his, or would he have to put up with mine?" "There's only one taste in the matter," Urquhart told him. "He hasn't got any.
He knew the country, he owned the motor-boat; he believed that he owned Lucy, and he believed that James was rather a fool. He thought that he had got the better of James. But this could not last, because James was no more of a fool than he was himself, though his intelligence worked in a different way. Things flashed upon Urquhart, who then studied them intensely and missed nothing.
She nodded her great bonnet at him with gentle amusement. 'You are insistent in your fancy. Well, let me think again. The last to leave me was Fanny Urquhart, that was let me see last October. Now you are certainly not Fanny Urquhart's son, she stooped austerely, 'for she never had one. Last year, too, I heard that my dear, dear Mrs Jameson was dead. HER I hadn't met for many, many years.
One was a batch of invitations awaiting each arrival of his ship in port first two, then four, then half-a-dozen women's notes, begging him to come to as many hospitable houses for change and rest, and to "bring the baby". He could not bring the baby, for reasons which he did not honestly present, as a rule, but which he reluctantly disclosed to Alice Urquhart one night at Five Creeks.
Urquhart saw in his mind that he would be a fool to quarrel with Vera. She was not on his side, he could feel; but he didn't despair of her. One way of putting her off him forever was to allow her to think him a fool. That he could not afford. "Don't turn against me for a mannerism, my dear," he said. "I turn against you, if at all, for a lack of mannerism," said Vera briskly.
It heads a valley lawns on three sides, smooth as billiard tables then the lake with a marble lip and steps broad and low steps, in flights of eight. Very good, you know. You shall see it." Lucy wanted to know, "How big was the lake, really." Urquhart said, "It looked a mile but that's the art of the thing. Really, it's two hundred and fifty yards.
It was something, perhaps, to know in her heart that every man in the party was in love with her; it was much more for the moment at least to be without conscience in the matter. She had put her conscience to sleep for once, drugged it with poppy and drowsy syrups, and led the life of a healthy and vigorous animal. Urquhart enjoyed that; he was content to wait and watch.
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