She turned round and dashed upstairs once more, and burst open the nursery door.
“I’m sorry I seemed cross. It wasn’t anything to do with you, really, and I think Ces is getting on first-rate, truly I do. ’Night-night.”
Late for dinner and stumbling over her long dress as she hastened downstairs, Rose felt better satisfied with herself.
Miss Wade, who had perceived from the first moment of her arrival that Mrs. Aviolet was no lady, felt her opinion to have received confirmation good and strong, and from that moment she despised Cecil’s mother from the bottom of her little soul.
Dinner that evening was the most amusing gathering at which Rose had assisted since coming to Squires, although she was disappointed not to find herself placed next to Lord Charlesbury.
She sat between Sir Thomas and a young fox-hunting squire, the only other guest staying in the house, whom everyone excepting herself seemed to call Toby. As soon as she had discovered that he liked playing cards, they discussed whisky-poker, made very familiar to Rose both in Ceylon and on board ship.
On the other side of the table, Lord Charlesbury listened to Miss Grierson-Amberly’s flat, pleasant tones with exactly the same appearance of intense interest that he had accorded to Rose’s monologue earlier in the day. But every now and then he adjusted his single eyeglass and glanced across the glittering expanse of white cloth, crystal, and silver.
The conversation only became general when Rose’s neighbour spoke animatedly upon the subject of billiards.
“We might have a game after dinner,” said Sir Thomas. “Though I’m afraid we don’t muster very strong here.”
He paused a moment.