"Ah—you're annoyed," said Lady Wychcote coolly; "but the fact is, that a young woman in Sophy's position can't be too careful. In England, among people of our class, there's still a strong feeling against divorce. As an American you could hardly realise how deep-rooted this feeling is. I think it right to tell you of it."
"Thanks," said Susan. She turned towards the rose-garden. "If you will come with me...." she suggested, moving forward as she spoke.
But Lady Wychcote made no move to follow her.
"By the way, do you happen to know where my grandson is?" asked she.
"With his tutor. They've ridden over to Carbeck Castle. A picnic with Lady Towne's children and Mrs. Arundel's little boy. But if you'll follow me, Lady Wychcote, I'll go and tell Sophy that you're here...."
"No. Wait, please," said the other quickly. "I'd like to talk a bit more with you first."
Susan drew forward a wicker chair. Lady Wychcote seated herself, and Susan, following her example, took up her embroidery again. But her fingers felt very nervous. It seemed to her that she had never heard those two in the garden talk and laugh so gaily and incessantly.
"You know Mrs. Arundel, I believe?" now enquired the other, in her chill, brittle voice.
"Yes. She kindly helped me to get this home ready for Sophy."
"You like her?"