“Cecil isn’t only ‘poor Jim’s’ son.”
“I know, my dear. It was a most unfortunate marriage, of course. But it was all many years ago, and she’s improved wonderfully, poor thing. One may not have very much in common with her, but, at least, she’s a genuinely devoted mother, and she hasn’t stood in the boy’s way.”
“She did her best, when she made difficulties over his going to school.”
“Well, yes,” Lady Aviolet conceded. “She was certainly very tiresome about that, I remember. She had some very odd ideas about his being different to other boys. As though all mothers didn’t think their own children quite different to all other children!”
“But Cecil really was a little bit different, Cousin Catherine,” said Diana. “It seems a shame to say so, but it really was rather dreadful when he was quite little, and wouldn’t speak the truth, or play games without cheating.”
“Little bounder,” muttered Ford between his teeth.
“It’s certainly a very horrid fault,” Diana admitted gravely.
“The streak of bad blood is bound to come out sooner or later. It’s all very well to talk of his being one of ourselves, Mother, but you must admit that there have been times when young Master Cecil showed very decided signs of his Smith ancestry.”
“I’d really rather you didn’t say such things, Ford,” returned Lady Aviolet very placidly.
Her son smiled slightly, raised his eyebrows, and went out of the room.