XLI
People came to see me and Eleanor.
Mrs. Sebright came nearly every day; and Miss Mix and Mrs. Allsopp, and of course Maud. Grandmother came too, and Cousin Delia. I was glad to see them, especially Cousin Delia. I had not seen her for such a long time.
‘Dear,’ she said. ‘How happy you are! Is the world perfect now?’
And I said:
‘Very nearly perfect, Cousin Delia.’
Cousin Delia was lovely with a baby, so quiet and so sure.
I said:
‘Will it seem quite ordinary to me soon, Cousin Delia?’
And she said:
‘I don’t know; to me it never has; to me when Guy and Hugo are there, it is still almost like this. It has never got “ordinary” at all.’
I said:
‘Were you very glad they were sons?’
And she said:
‘Yes; I was glad. I wanted a daughter too, but you were like having a daughter.’
I said:
‘Cousin Delia, I do so wish I had been really your daughter.’
She looked out of the window.
‘I used to think it was better as it was,’ she said, ‘but after all it did not make any difference, did it, in the end?’
I said:
‘It did make a difference, I think.’
She said:
‘Yes; but not in the way I meant. I used to think that you and Hugo would be married one day. It is foolish to make plans.’
I said:
‘I don’t think you made plans in a way that mattered. I don’t think you ever made a mistake.’
She looked round at me, surprised. I was surprised at myself. I had never tried to tell Cousin Delia how I felt about her, and now, suddenly, I wished I could; and I went on:
‘I think you are the most perfect person in the world.’
She said:
‘Dear Heart, thank you: I wish it were true’; and she kissed me.
Then she talked about Yearsly, and Cousin John, and the garden.
Cousin Delia brought roses with her, and all the room was sweet when she had gone. I wished she could have stayed longer. I wished she would come again. I wished I could go back with her to Yearsly. I felt like a child left alone at school.