It was quite early after luncheon that Mrs. Ardayre was announced. Amaryllis had waited in the green drawing room, thinking that she would come. She was playing the piano at the far end to try and lighten her feeling of depression, when the door opened, and to her astonishment quite a young, slight woman came into the room. She was a little lame, and walked with a stick. For a moment Amaryllis thought she must be mistaken, and rose with a vague, but gracious look in her eyes.
Mrs. Ardayre held out her hand and smiled:
"I hope you got my telegram in time," she said cordially. "I felt I must not lose the opportunity of making your acquaintance. My son has been so anxious for us to meet."
"You—you can't be Denzil's mother, surely!" Amaryllis exclaimed. "He is much too old to be your son!"
Mrs. Ardayre smiled again—while Amaryllis made her sit down on the sofa
beside her and helped her off with her furs. "I am forty-nine years old,
Amaryllis—if I may call you so—but one ought never to grow old in body.
It is not necessary, and it is not agreeable to the eye!"
Amaryllis looked at her carefully in the full side light. It was the shape of her face, she decided, which gave her such youth. There were no unsightly bones to cause shadows and the skin was smooth and ivory—and her eyes were bright brown; their expression was very humorous as well as kindly, and Amaryllis was drawn to her at once.
They talked about their desire to know one another and about the family, and the place, and the war—and at last they spoke of Denzil, and Mrs. Ardayre told of what his life was, and his whereabouts now, and then grew retrospective.
"He is the dearest boy in the world," she said. "We have been friends always, and now he will not allow me to be anxious about him. I really think that as far as the frightfulness of things will let him be, he is actually enjoying his life! Men are such queer creatures, they like to fight!"
Amaryllis asked what was her latest news of him, and where he was, and listened interestedly to Mrs. Ardayre's replies:
"The cavalry have not had very much to do lately, fortunately," she remarked. "My husband has just gone back, but I suppose if there is a shortage of men for the trenches, they will be dismounted perhaps."