"Very much the same," Miss Delmege told her sadly. "Of course, it's perfectly wonderful of her to—"
"Oh," said Miss Marsh maliciously, "if you want news about Plessing, Greengage, you must ask Gracie. She's been out there every day in the car, so as to go through the letters with Miss Vivian."
"I say! Really?"
"Yes, rather. She had lunch with Miss Vivian's mother nearly every day."
"I rather envied her the motor ride," said Miss Delmege languidly, with the implication that no other consideration could have moved her to jealousy for a moment. "But, as a matter of fact, I couldn't manage to go myself—laid up with this wretched flu, you know. I simply wasn't fit to stir. Of course, Miss Vivian knew that; she was awfully sweet about it. But, then, I always say, the attractive thing about her is that she's so desperately human, when once you get to know her."
"And is she back at the office?" inquired Miss Plumtree, turning a deaf ear to these descriptive touches.
"Comes back tomorrow morning, Monday. Some one from Plessing rang up yesterday afternoon when I was on telephone duty and said so."
"That would be Lady Vivian's secretary, Miss Bruce."
"Yes," said Miss Delmege reflectively. "She's been with them for years, and is perfectly devoted to Miss Vivian. She's too sweet about her—Miss Vivian, I mean. I've heard her telephoning sometimes; she calls her Brucey."
"Frightfully human!" was Tony's enthusiastic comment.