'But do you think I'm treating the poor girl badly?'
'Vincy, even if you adored her it would end unhappily. As you don't, you would both be miserable from the first day. Be firm. Be nice and kind to her and tell her straight out, and come and stay with us in the country.'
'Well, that was rather my idea. Oh, but, Edith, it's hard to hurt anyone.'
'You know I saw her driving with Aylmer that day, and I thought he liked her. I found I was wrong.'
'Yes. He doesn't. I wish I could get some nice person to—er—take her out. I mean, take her on.'
'What sort of person? She's pretty in her way. I daresay she'll attract someone.'
'What sort of person? Oh, I don't know. Some nice earl would please her, or one of those artist chaps you read of in the feuilletons—the sort of artist who, when he once gets a tiny little picture skied at the Academy, immediately has fortune, and titles and things, rolling in. A little picture called 'Eventide' or 'Cows by Moonlight', or something of that sort, in those jolly stories means ten thousand pounds a year at once. Jolly, isn't it?'
'Yes, Vincy dear, but we're not living in a feuilleton. What's really going to be done? Will she be nasty?'
'No. But I'm afraid Aunt Jessie will abuse me something cruel.' He thought a little while. 'In fact she has.'
'What does she say?'