Mrs. Kendall rose. She had been looking decidedly ill at ease while the latest topic was discussed. "The days are so short," she murmured, "we must really say good-bye. Charmed to find you at home and looking so well, dear Mrs. Guyse. Now, I suppose it would be of no use to ask you to let Mr. Guyse bring you to lunch with us one day next week?" She bent over Madam’s couch coaxingly.
"Oh, no thank you. I shall not go out until the weather turns really fine," was the quick response. "Miss Innes will have to do my social duties for me."
Mrs. Kendall ignored the hint entirely. "Mr. Guyse, you will have to take pity on us and come alone," said she playfully. "Shall we say Monday? Or would Tuesday suit you better? What with our having been abroad the two last winters, and in London during the season, we have seen nothing of you lately."
"Must be three years since I was at Copley, isn’t it?"
"Oh, I can’t believe that it is as long as that! How time flies! But do be—er—forgiving, and come over for an hour or two. The General is longing for a chat with you."
"Can’t be done, thanks all the same. We’re short-handed on the farm, and next week is going to be very busy. The long snow has made us all behindhand. You must realise that I’m a mere British workman, not fit to lunch with the quality."
Rose approached, laying her cheek down on her big white muff, and looking wistfully at him. He stuck to his refusal, however, in spite of entreaties. The discussion seemed to amuse Madam. She lay listening with one of her queer looks—looks which enabled one to glimpse a passing likeness between her and the son who was so unlike her.
The young man accompanied his guests downstairs, and as the sound of their footsteps and voices died away, his mother turned to Olwen.
"What in particular was funny?" inquired the girl, coming to relieve her of her empty cup.
"The Kendalls! Ha! ha! I can’t altogether explain how funny it is, but I can tell you part. They tried hard, three years ago, to marry Rose to Ninian. She’s got a nice little fortune, it wouldn’t have done badly. Then suddenly something made them think that they might get hold of Noel Guyse, Caryngston’s boy, and, of course, they thought that would be much better. They haven’t been near us for ages, and when they walked in this afternoon, all gush, I couldn’t make out what brought them. But, you see, Ninian knew! They had got wind of Noel’s engagement, and hoped we shouldn’t have heard about it! Hoped they wouldn’t be seen through! But Nin wasn’t going to let them off! Did you see the General’s face when Nin made him own that he knew? Dear me, I haven’t been so amused for a long time!"