‘Have you any idea, my love, what made her come down unannounced?’ asked Stephen, the joy of his homecoming completely clouded over.
‘No, darling. I can’t make it out. It really puzzles me.’
‘You have no theory at all?’
‘None.’
‘Nor any idea as to the length of her proposed stay?’
‘Only the idea of the two trunks. Mother hasn’t said a word, and I can’t very well ask.’
‘No,’ said Stephen thoughtfully. ‘No.’ And added, ‘It is very disquieting.’
It was; for he saw clearly what an awkward situation must arise with the abdicated monarch alongside of the reigning one for any time longer than a day or two, and also, since nothing particular appeared to have brought her down, she must have come idly, on an impulse, because she had nothing else to do,—and to be idle, to drift round, seemed to him really a great pity for any human being. It led inevitably to mischief. Fruitful activity was of the first importance for every one, he couldn’t but think, especially for one’s wife’s mother. But it must take place somewhere else. That was essential: it must take place somewhere else.
‘Well, perhaps,’ he said, stroking Virginia’s hair, endeavouring to give and get comfort, ‘in spite of the trunks it will only be for a day or two. Ladies do take large amounts of luggage about with them.’
Virginia shook her head. ‘Mother doesn’t,’ she said. ‘Each time before she only brought a bag.’