“Good heavens! no!” said Philip, earnestly.
“But I was looking forward to telling them,” she explained. “Because I’m sure it would amuse them.”
Philip smiled indulgently and thought she would find lots of other ways of amusing them. He had told Miss Ashley, who, by the way, was an enthusiastic rationalist, that he did not want her to attend the outward shows of religion, and Miss Ashley had assented, though as a schoolmistress she was bound to see that her other pupils went to church at least once every Sunday. He had reassured her about the bad example Sylvia would set by promising to come himself and take her out every Sunday in his capacity as guardian.
“You’ll be glad of that, won’t you?” he asked, anxiously.
“I expect so,” Sylvia said. “But of course I may find being at school such fun that I sha’n’t want to leave it.”
Again Philip smiled indulgently and hoped she would. Of course, it was now holiday-time, but Miss Ashley had quite agreed with him in the desirableness of Sylvia’s going to Hornton House before the term began. She would be able to help her to equip herself with all the things a school-girl required. He knew, for instance, that she was short of various articles of clothing. Sylvia could take Miss Ashley completely into her confidence, but even with her he advised a certain reticence with regard to some of her adventures. She was of course a woman of infinite experience and extremely broad-minded, but many years as a schoolmistress might have made her consider some things were better left unsaid; there were some people, particularly English people, who were much upset by details. Perhaps Sylvia would spare her the details?
“You see, my dear child, you’ve had an extraordinary number of odd adventures for your age, and they’ve made you what you are, you dear. But now is the chance of setting them in their right relation to your future life. You know, I’m tremendously keen about this one year’s formal education. You’re just the material that can be perfected by academic methods, which with ordinary material end in mere barren decoration.”
“I don’t understand. I don’t understand,” Sylvia interrupted.
“Sorry! My hobby-horse has bolted with me and left you behind. But I won’t try to explain or even to advise. I leave everything to you. After all, you are you; and I’m the last person to wish you to be any one else.”
Philip was humming excitedly when they drove up to Hornton House, and Sylvia was certainly much impressed by its Palladian grandeur and the garden that seemed to spread illimitably behind it. She felt rather shy of Miss Ashley herself, who was apparently still in her dressing-gown, a green-linen dressing-gown worked in front with what Sylvia considered were very bad reproductions of flowers in brownish silk. She was astonished at seeing a woman of Miss Ashley’s dignity still in her dressing-gown at three o’clock in the afternoon, but she was still more astonished to see her in a rather battered straw hat, apparently ready to go shopping in Kensington High Street without changing her attire. She looked at Philip, who, however, seemed unaware of anything unusual. A carriage was waiting for them when they went out, and Philip left her with Miss Ashley, promising to dine at Hornton House that night.