‘Fancy,’ said Laura; and poured herself out some coffee.
‘How is she?’ asked Charles after a pause, ignoring such silliness.
‘Oh, quite well,’ said Laura. ‘She was tired last night.’
‘Tired! I should think so,’ said Charles severely. ‘I’ve come to ask her if she will let me take her into the country for the day. It’s my intention to get her away from your crowd for a few hours.’
‘Rescue her, in fact,’ said Laura, munching, her back to him.
‘Exactly,’ said Charles, who was angry.
‘I expect Tom’—Tom was Lord Streatley—‘will be here soon, wanting to rescue her too,’ remarked Laura, glancing out of the window to where she could see Charles’s touring car standing, and no chauffeur. ‘He won’t bring his chauffeur either. Have some?’ she asked, holding up the coffee-pot.
‘Can’t you be a little beast when you give your mind to it,’ said Charles.
‘Well, you scolded me last night because I had rescued her, and now here you are——’
Laura broke off, and hastily drank some coffee. She didn’t really want to quarrel with Charles; she never had yet. In fact, till Sally appeared on the scene she had never quarrelled with any of her family. Besides in her heart, though she was cross that morning, not having slept well for the first time for years because of being worried and conscience-stricken and anxious, she was glad that Charles should take Sally off her hands. She had so much to do that day, so many important engagements; and if Sally went with her everybody would instantly be upset, and if she left her at home she would be a prey to Streatley. Other people wishing to prey on her could be kept out by a simple order to the servants, but not her own brother. And Streatley, when he was infatuated, was a gross creature, and there would be more trouble and wretchedness for poor Kitty his wife, let alone God knowing what mightn’t happen to Sally.