"You've known him ever so long, haven't you?" asked Ora, handing the cup.
"Ages, ever since we were children. He's very nice and very clever."
"I've only known him quite a little while." Ora paused and laughed. "Some people would say that's why his picture's in the place of honour."
"You like change?" asked Alice. Ashley liked change also. But Ora made her old defence.
"People change, so of course I change to them." The explanation did not quite satisfy herself. "Oh, I don't know," she said impatiently. "Anyhow I haven't left off liking Ashley yet. I may, you know."
Alice, conscious that she herself in her hostess' position would have said "Mr. Mead," tried to make the obvious allowances; it was just like that clasping of the hands round Hazlewood's arm, just like the air of expecting to be kissed. Fully aware of insurgent prejudices, she beat them down with a despotic judgment; she would not follow in the wake of her stepmother nor adopt the formulas of Minna Soames. Curiously enough Ora was in somewhat the same or a parallel state of mind, although she did not realise it so clearly. She too was struggling to understand and to appreciate. She was sure she would be friends with Miss Muddock, if she could get within her guard; but why did people have guards, or why not drop them when other people shewed themselves friendly? You might have to keep the Babba Flints at their distance, no doubt, but even that was better done by ridicule than by stiffness.
"We still see a good deal of him," said Alice, "although he has an immense lot of engagements. He generally comes to lunch on Sunday."
Ora reflected that he had not followed his usual practice on one Sunday. Alice went on to give a brief description of Ashley's general relation to the Muddock family, and referred to her father's wish that he should enter the business.
"He came to talk to me about it to-day," she said, "but it wouldn't suit him in the least, and I told him so."
"Oh, no, it wouldn't," cried Ora. "I'm so glad you told him right."