Mrs. Shannon, small and fair like her daughter, was in all other respects as unlike Barbara as could well be imagined. In place of that young lady’s characterful little face, Mrs. Shannon’s features were doll-like and insipid. She was pretty enough, in a negative, plump sort of way; but interest in her began and ended with her appearance. Barbara’s attitude towards her was that of patient protectiveness. To see the two together one would think, apart from their ages, that Barbara was the mother and Mrs. Shannon the daughter.
“A good night?” she repeated peevishly. “My dear child, how many times must I tell you that it is quite impossible for me to get any sleep at all in this wretched place? If it isn’t the birds, it’s the dogs; and if it isn’t the dogs, it’s——”
“Yes, Mother,” Barbara interrupted soothingly. “What would you like to eat?”
“Oh, let me,” exclaimed Alec, jumping up. “And, Mrs. Plant, what are you going to have?”
Mrs. Plant, a graceful, dark-haired lady of twenty-six or so, with a husband in the Soudanese Civil Service, indicated a preference for ham; Mrs. Shannon consented to be soothed with a fried sole. Conversation became general.
Major Jefferson looked in once and glanced round the room in a worried way. “Nobody’s seen Mr. Stanworth this morning, have they?” he asked the company in general, and receiving no reply, went out again.
Barbara and Roger engaged in a fierce discussion on the relative merits of tennis and golf, for the latter of which Roger had acquired a half-blue at Oxford. Mrs. Shannon explained at some length to Alec over her second sole why she could never eat much breakfast nowadays. Mary Plant came to the aid of Barbara in proving that whereas golf was a game for the elderly and crippled, tennis was the only possible summer occupation for the young and energetic. The room buzzed.
The appearance of Lady Stanworth caused the conversation to stop abruptly. In the ordinary course of events she breakfasted in her own room. A tall, stately woman, with hair just beginning to turn gray, she was never anything but cool and dignified; but this morning her face seemed even more serious than usual. For a moment she stood in the doorway, looking round the room as Major Jefferson had done a few minutes before.
Then, “Good-morning, everybody,” she said slowly. “Mr. Sheringham and Mr. Grierson, can I have a word with you for a moment?”
In deep silence Roger and Alec pushed back their chairs and rose. It was obvious that something out of the ordinary had occurred, but nobody quite liked to ask a question. In any case, Lady Stanworth’s attitude did not encourage curiosity. She waited till they had reached the door, and motioned for them to precede her. When they had passed through, she shut the door carefully after her.