‘Mr. Colquhoun, m’m,’ said Mrs. Mitcham opening the door; and in walked Stephen.
‘Why, Stephen,’ cried Catherine, almost running to him, so very glad was she to see him, so much gladder than she had yet been in her life, ‘I am pleased!’
‘I was here earlier in the evening,’ began Stephen—and paused on catching sight of the flaming young man in the corner by the fireplace.
‘Oh, yes—this is Mr. Monckton,’ said Catherine hastily. And to Christopher she said, ‘This is Mr. Colquhoun——’ Adding, with extreme clearness, ‘My son-in-law.’
IX
The manner of Christopher’s departure was not creditable. He shouldn’t behave like that, thought Catherine, whatever his feelings might be. He pretended not to be aware of Stephen’s outstretched hand, scowled at him in silence, and then immediately said good-bye to her; and as he crushed her fingers—she hadn’t time to pull off her rings—he said out loud, ‘The generations don’t do what they should, you see, after all.’
‘I have no idea what you mean,’ she said coldly.
‘Just now you laid down as a principle that they should keep together.’ And he glanced at Stephen.
Stephen and Virginia. Yes; but how absurd of him to compare—
‘That’s different,’ she said quickly and defiantly.