Valentia was sitting opposite the light, dressed in blue, in a black hat of moderate size, looking straight at the elder lady with a smile, and stirring her cup of tea.
Mrs. Wyburn admired her pluck and the fit of her dress.
"Yes, exactly—just what I should have thought. You know what a horror I have of displaying anything in the shape or form of interference, dear Valentia. But, since you've mentioned it yourself, may I just say, doesn't it seem almost a pity that you should never be alone with your husband?"
Valentia began to laugh.
"Oh, really, Mrs. Wyburn, why do you assume that? But of course we're longing for a quiet time. That is why we're going away so early. What delicious China tea! Yours is the only house where one gets it quite like this."
She put down her cup, which was more than half full, with a slight sigh.
"Romer hates China tea too," said Mrs. Wyburn. "It would be really better for your nerves if you'd drink it, my dear."
"And when do you go to Bournemouth?"
"The first week in August. So I shall be able to come down one day—as Romer asked me—before I go, and just have a peep at what you're all doing at the Green Gate."
She smiled with grotesque playfulness.