A mackintosh in the corner submitted that there could be no reason why one should not bow—always supposing that one wished. Most people, under similar circumstances, obliterated themselves for a long time, went away and lost themselves for their own sake and everybody else’s, till the affair was forgotten. But in this case the lady under discussion seemed to have no self-obliterating tendencies—almost appeared, one might say, to be proud of the situation.
Silver-hair seemed a little shocked by this statement. There are canons of good taste even in back-biting.
Hardly proud, surely? Of course, it was all distinctly tiresome, but, for his own part, he had gathered from—say, the droop of her left shoulder—that she was rather miserable.
Miserable? Of course she was miserable! This was smartness in blue voile and a cornflower hat, somewhat damaged by a string bag. Hadn’t she lost Crump, and gained nothing but the clinging odour of a scandal? Such luck as hers had been quite unlikely to last. And of course she would never have such another chance. Those weeks of triumph would have to last her all the rest of her life.
“So stupid!” Silver-hair murmured worriedly. “So upsetting to do these startling things! Of course she was a Lyndesay and a lady, and she played the organ quite nicely, but after all one of the professions would have been more suitable—say, a nice, quiet country solicitor. It was all very awkward for her friends. And she wasn’t even wearing mourning for him! What he wanted to know, was—what was one to do?”
“Give her time,” said Mackintosh in the corner. “We haven’t seen the end of things yet. She’s a pretty girl, and she must have had a way with her, or Stanley would never have looked at her. We all know that!” (Mackintosh’s forbears having washed for Crump, she was naturally in a position to speak familiarly.) “Give her time! There’s still a Lyndesay of Crump!”
Cornflower admired her perspicacity with a meaning smile.
“Oh, of course, that will be the next thing! She is certain to make the attempt. But Christian will not easily be caught. Christian, I have reason to know, has a fancy in quite another direction!”
Cornflower had a daughter of her own, who had had the felicity of being yanked through a hedge by Christian, out basset-hunting. What more was needed?
Silver-hair looked uncomfortable. Cornflower and Mackintosh did not appear to him to be keeping to the rules of the game.