Lord Henry bowed his head. "No," he replied, with that supreme calmness which only those feel who have discharged more than their appointed duty to a deceased relative, "she died three years ago."
For some moments the three walked on in silence; then at last Leonetta spoke.
"That does explain an awful lot about dear old Peachy, doesn't it, Cleo?" she exclaimed.
"It explains everything," Cleopatra replied serenely.
"Of course," Leonetta added, addressing Lord Henry, "we always knew you were Peachy's star turn,—you know what I mean! But we hadn't any idea you knew her so well. How lovely it must be to be understood so well, so deeply, by even one creature on earth!"
Lord Henry laughed.
"You girls could not be expected to understand your mother as clearly as I do," he said. "You were too close to her for that. I think you have both done wonders."
They had now reached the terrace of Brineweald Park, and it wanted three quarters of an hour to tea. The two sisters were still under the peculiar spell of the conversation they had just had with the young nobleman, and they did not wish to leave him. At last Cleopatra said she would like to go in search of her mother, and Lord Henry and Leonetta were left alone.
"Do you read everybody as clearly as you've read brave old Peachy?" Leonetta asked him.
"I cannot say that," Lord Henry replied, perching himself on the stone balustrade of the terrace.