“No, my dear, not so soon as that,” said Aunt Hester, and tripped off to the house.
Violet turned to Colin.
“Has anything happened?” she said. “Why is Aunt Hester going?”
Colin followed the retreat of the sprightly little figure for a moment in silence. Then with a sigh he looked at Violet, shaking his head.
“It’s all wretched,” he said. “Yes, Aunt Hester’s quarrelled with me. She took it on herself to tell me I had no business to ask Pamela here. She said everyone believed I was having an affair with her, and that it was an insult to you to ask her here. Now that doesn’t happen to be true. Do you believe that, darling?”
Violet looked at him with that direct limpid gaze, so like his own.
“If you tell me so, of course I do,” she said.
“I do tell you so,” he said. “Even if it wasn’t true, what on earth has it to do with Aunt Hester? But her talking to me like that—she called it talking like a mother—gave me the opportunity I wanted, so I told her I was tired of being ruled by aged and parasitic relatives. I said I wasn’t in a hurry for her to go, but that, if she wanted to stop a bit longer, she must apologize. So she went to pack. That’s all.”
“Oh, Colin, poor old thing!” said Violet.
“Me, or Aunt Hester?” he asked.