Alex felt a throb of gratitude.
"Barbara thought it had better all be got over at once," she said timidly.
"That's just like her! Barbara is being completely ruined by that parlour-maid of hers—Ada. I always think Ada is responsible for all Barbara's worst inspirations. She rules her with a rod of iron. Shall you hate coming down to lunch, Alex? Those riotous children will be off directly, they're wild about the skating-rink at Olympia. Then we can talk comfortably."
She put her hand caressingly through Alex' arm, as they went downstairs. Alex felt that she could have worshipped her sister-in-law for her easy, pitying tenderness.
The consciousness of it helped her all through the long meal, when the noise of laughter and conversation bewildered her, after so many years of convent refectories and silence, and her solitary dinners in Rome.
Violet had placed her between Cedric and Pamela, and the girl chattered to her intermittently, without appearing to require any answer.
"Are you boys ready?" she cried, just as coffee was brought in. "We can't wait for coffee—come on! My instructor will be engaged."
"How are you going, Pam?" asked Violet.
"Underground. It's the quickest."
"Oh, no, Pam. Take a taxi. Archie, you must!"