“No; last Sunday was the end of them for this year. Lord Thorley is coming, and I think Gracie Massingberd. I had forgotten you were going back.”
She hesitated a moment; it was probable that if she urged Robin to come, he would do so, and leave Cambridge to take care of itself till Monday. On the other hand, if he would not come, she must see about getting a fourth to make their party square. Perhaps....
“I’ll come if you really want me, mother,” he said. “Jim will be furious, but after all he and I shall be there together till half-way through August.”
While he spoke she had made up her mind.
“No, dear,” she said, “I don’t want you more than I always want you, and if you’ve settled to go to Cambridge, why should you change your plans? In any case, it will be a very short stay at Grote, for I shan’t get down there till after the opera on Saturday night, and Gracie and Lord Thorley aren’t coming down till Sunday morning. Very likely I shan’t go down till Sunday morning either.”
Robin got up.
“All right, then I shall go up this afternoon,” he said. “What’s the opera?”
“Tristan: the last Tristan of the season; Kuhlmann is singing.”
“A deplorable composition,” remarked Robin.
She began to laugh.