It was the first time she had used an endearing expression to him since he had brought her home. He had experienced a great lift of spirit when he had seen her waiting for him on the platform, looking once again like her old self, and she had kissed him and taken his arm as they went out to the car. But now his heart sank like lead. "Yes, I saw her," he said shortly.
That was all. Beatrix gradually withdrew herself from her warm contact with him, and spoke of surface matters in the lifeless voice she now habitually used towards him. It was plain to him that Lady Grafton had given her to understand that she was going to do something to help her. He had not understood that there had been a correspondence between them.
He complained of it to Caroline. "I suppose she wrote and asked Aunt Mary to see me," he said. "I don't like it at all. Hasn't she got any love for me left? She was just like she always has been for a few minutes, while she thought something might have happened. But it wasn't really for me. It's all that fellow,—and he doesn't want her any more."
Caroline spoke to Beatrix. "You're making Dad awfully unhappy," she said.
"Well, he's making me awfully unhappy," said Beatrix, without waiting for anything further. "He wants me to love him, and of course I do. But I simply can't make a fuss of him, when he's behaving so unfairly. Everybody sympathises with me, except him. And nobody can see any reason for his sending René away, as he did."
It was true that most people who knew about it did sympathise with Beatrix. She received letters, and wrote letters. For the first time in the history of the Grafton family letters that arrived were not common property. No one asked Beatrix whom hers were from, if they came at breakfast-time, nor did she volunteer the information, though sometimes she showed them to Caroline afterwards.
The neighbours knew the story. It annoyed Grafton when he first realised that it was a matter of common talk. The information came to him from Lady Mansergh, of all people in the world.
Lady Mansergh was of an earlier generation of stage beauties than those who now so admirably play their titled parts. She was obviously and frankly 'common.' No one who knew her could have thrown doubt upon the genuine gold of her heart, whatever they may have thought of that of her head, but it had needed all of it to reconcile Grafton to seeing his girls made much of by the stout affectionate lady, who had taken them all to her ample bosom from the first. He had, as a matter of fact, been nearer to the Vicar's opinion, that Lady Mansergh was not a person for them to become intimate with, than to Worthing's, that she was 'perfectly all right, and couldn't possibly do them any harm.' He had even talked to Miss Waterhouse about it, but somewhat to his surprise she had not advised any standing off in whatever relationship the proximity of the two houses might bring about. "Whatever is odd about her they laugh at," she said. "It makes no more impression on them than that. She is a good-hearted woman, and it is their innocence and brightness that she loves in them. She would never do or say anything that could offend them."
So Lady Mansergh drove over occasionally to the Abbey to see her pretty bunch of girls, as she called them, and shook her fat sides with merriment at the entertainment they afforded her. She had a married step-daughter staying with her at this time, with a family of little children, and the Grafton girls, especially Barbara, were baby worshippers. So that took them to Wilborough. And there were the links in the park, which Sir Alexander had handed over to an informal club, with Worthing as its secretary. Grafton played on them frequently himself, and whenever there was anybody there from the Abbey Lady Mansergh was pretty sure to put in an appearance at some point or other of the course, with a pressing invitation to lunch or tea. If it were not accepted she would keep them company for a time, waddling along with her dachshund and her pug, in a state of high good humour, and talking most of the time, both at those stages of the game that admitted of conversation and those that didn't.
Grafton's objections to her as an intimate of his children to this friendly open extent had died down. There are some people who can be taken purely on the basis of the heart, whatever other factors go to their composition, and Lady Mansergh was one of them. But, friendly as he felt towards her, he was by no means prepared to admit her into confidence on such a matter as this of Beatrix's. A question of marriage, or of love—Lady Mansergh's experiences on either might include many points of interest; but the tacit understanding surely was that such experiences on her part should be kept in the background. She was what she was now, in this intimacy with his family, and nothing of what she had been.