"Why not?" she asked, and her voice had a militant ring in it.
"O Ned, Ned!" whispered Helen Tressilian to her cousin, as at that moment the gentleman entered the room, "for Heaven's sake take her away from us soon or she will be spoilt!"
He grasped the situation in a moment. "I'm afraid we must be starting, Miss Graham. We are going to row you across the estuary, and then we can walk home over the hills. You have never been in a boat, have you?"
"No!" said poor Aura, suddenly feeling inclined to cry. It seemed to her as if she knew nothing and had seen nothing.
[CHAPTER XIV]
Peter Ramsay had come down to spend the Christmas holidays at Plas Afon in a very bad temper, both with himself and his world.
He was perfectly aware that he had been over-hasty in his struggle with vested interests, but what irritated him most of all was the knowledge that he had, as it were, cut the ground from under his own feet, so that further fighting was impossible. He could, of course, go over to Vienna, and learn a great deal under Pagenheim; but he would only have to come home again and begin where he had left off; which was silly--intensely silly! There are few things more annoying than the knowledge that you have given yourself away needlessly, and that a very slight application of a drag might have prevented the apple-cart from being overturned. The whole affair seemed now almost childish in its crudity. What the deuce did it matter whether a hogshead or a pint of beer were drunk, or if one patient the more died, instead of living to die in due time of something worse!
He was glooming out of the window over such thoughts as these when Helen, after seeing Lady Smith-Biggs start--despite her lunch--in a terrible fuss lest she should be too late for tea, came back to the drawing-room. Aunt Em, as always, had discreetly retired to her room, whether for work or sleep none knew, so they were alone. It was for the first time, and Helen seized her opportunity, for she had something she wished to say to him. So she crossed to where he stood, his thumbs in his waistcoat pockets.
"Ned tells me you have made up your mind to Vienna," she said kindly. There was a sort of forlornness about this strong, capable man which always touched her.
"I have, Mrs. Tressilian," he replied somewhat defiantly. "I shall go to Pagenheim, and find out--things."