Then Lily put her hand silently to her neck.
“What’s that?”
“She’s just given it to me.”
Dick approached very near to examine the cameo brooch. “Hm!” he murmured. It was an adverse verdict. And Lily coincided with it by a lift of the eyebrows.
“And I suppose you’ll have to wear that!” said Dick.
“She values it as much as anything she’s got, poor old thing!” said Lily. “It belonged to her mother. And she says cameos are coming into fashion again. It really is rather good, you know.”
“I wonder where she learnt that!” said Dick, drily. “I see you’ve been suffering from the photographs again.”
“Well,” said Lily, “I much prefer the photographs to helping her to play Patience. The way she cheats herself—it’s too silly! I—”
She stopped. The door which had after all not been latched, was pushed open, and the antique Fossette introduced herself painfully into the room. Fossette had an affection for Dick Povey.
“Well, Methusaleh!” he greeted the animal loudly. She could scarcely wag her tail, nor shake the hair out of her dim eyes in order to look up at him. He stooped to pat her.