"Of course," Barbara was saying, "Alex could come to me for a bit--I'd love to have you, dear--but you saw for yourself what a tiny place mine is--and there's only Ada. I don't quite know what she'd say to having two people instead of one, I must say--"
"We want her, too," Violet exclaimed caressingly. "Let us have her for a little while, Barbara,--while you're preparing Ada's mind for the shock." She broke into her low, gurgling laugh again.
"What do you think, Alex? It isn't that I wouldn't love to have you--but there's no denying that ways and means _do_ count, and in a tiny household like mine, every item adds up."
"Oh," said Alex desperately, "I know what you must feel--the difficulty of--of knowing what to do with me. It's always been like that, ever since I was a little girl. I've made a failure of everything. Don't you remember--Barbara, _you_ must--old Nurse saying, 'Alex will never stick to anything'? And I never have, I never shall. I can only make dreadful muddles and failures, and upset you all. If only one could wreck one's own life without interfering with other people's!"
There was a silence, which Alex, after her outburst, knew very well was not one of comprehension. Then Cedric said gently:
"You mustn't let yourself exaggerate, my dear. We're very glad to have you with us again, one only can't help wishing it had been rather sooner. But there's no use in crying over spilt milk, and after all, as Violet says, there's no hurry about anything. Come to us and have a good long rest--you look as though you needed it--and get a little flesh on your bones again. We can settle all the rest afterwards."
Alex saw Barbara looking at her with furtive eagerness. She turned to her, with the utter dependence on another's judgment that had become second nature to her.
"My dear!" protested Barbara. "Of course, the longer you can stay with me the better I shall be pleased. It's only that Ada--" She broke off at the sound of Violet's irrepressible laugh.
"You must suit yourself absolutely, of course."
"Supposing you came to us at the end of the week?" Violet suggested. "Say Saturday. Pamela is going away then to pay one or two visits--and I shall have you all to myself."
It seemed to her incredible that Violet should actually want her, so engrained was her sense of her own isolation of spirit. That terrible isolation of those who have definitely, and for long past, lost all self-confidence, and which can never be realized or penetrated by those outside.