"Well, we might take them both, and all go somewhere—Margaret too!" A family party seemed now an excellently prudent and unsuspicious thing. "Oh, but I forgot, there's a great cricket-match—Hilsey against Marling! I ought to put in an appearance sometime, and I expect you're wanted to play, aren't you, Arthur?"
"I believe I did tell Beard I'd play if I was wanted. I'd forgotten about it."
"Have you made up your mind about going to London to-morrow?" asked Judith.
Bernadette pricked up her ears—in pure metaphor, though; she was too alert to let any outward sign of interest appear. Yet it now seemed to her very desirable that Arthur should go to London—for a few days anyhow. The quick look of surprise with which he met Judith's question did nothing to lessen this feeling.
He had forgotten all about going to London next day! The plight of the farce, the possible briefs—Joe Halliday's appeal, and the renewed enquiry from Wills and Mayne, so flattering to professional hopes—where were they? Where are the snows of yester year? They had gone clean out of his head, out of his life again. They had become unimportant, irrelevant. Again, for the moment, Hilsey closed around him on every side.
He did not answer Judith for a moment. "You know you told me you thought you might have to," she said, "for a little while anyhow, on some business."
"Oh yes, I know. But——"
"What business, Arthur?" Bernadette asked. "Briefs? How exciting!"
"Oh, nothing in particular!"
"Nonsense! I want to hear. I'm interested. I want to know all about it."