"Never mind! I'll go," quoth Jean. "Some stupid meeting, I dare say—or soup-tickets. If you are really wanted, I'll call you. Mother looks half asleep."
Miss Atherstone disapproved of Jem's views, real or supposed, on Church questions; therefore she never called at the Rectory except on business. She met Jean with a solemn air, and received dubiously the excuse of Jem's over-full time.
"Yes—he is a busy man we all know," she assented, looking at the rubbed knuckles of her second-best kid gloves, which she had counted quite good enough for the Rectory.
She wore a puce-coloured silk dress, relegated from long evening wear, a good deal frayed, and not exactly suited to a very cold May day; and her brown bonnet was trimmed with blue cornflowers interspersed among nodding ears of corn, more appropriate for autumn than for spring. Every time she moved her head, those ears bobbed stiffly; and Jean found a fascination in watching for the next bob, distantly akin to the interest with which one watches for the next wave-splash on a sea-beach.
"A very busy person!"—with an accent of pity, as if to imply, "Busy, alas, about what?"
For the Colonel still counted Jem a dangerous young man! And his sister dutifully followed suit.
"Perhaps you could give me a message for him," suggested Jean.
"Thank you—but really—no, it is of no consequence," hesitated Miss Atherstone. "Merely a—merely an idea—Another time, perhaps."
"He will come in a moment, if you wish."
No, Miss Atherstone would not have him called. O no, certainly not. She fidgeted with her twirled glove-ends, always too long for the fat short fingers. And Mrs. Trevelyan was resting in the study—not very strong, she believed. How very useful Miss Trevelyan must be in the house—like an adopted daughter! So delightful to have a home among relations, during her father's absence. And Mr. Trevelyan was quite recovered from his second illness? Dear! How trying that must have been! And he had been for a voyage since to the South Sea Islands, had he not? And he was coming home round the Cape, was he not? Dear! How nice! What a travelled man he would be! They were expected home very soon, she was told—Mr. Trevelyan—and—and—Sir Cyril Devereux with him!