“Good? I don’t know. I think people like it,” said Ruth, vaguely.
“Oh!”
Claudia’s “Oh!” implied a great deal as Mrs Hilton hurried towards them.
“Dear Ruth, a little music, please.” And as Miss Baynes took glad possession of the piano, Mrs Hilton murmured on to Claudia, “Ruth is so kind, always ready to play and sing, and Harry likes it so much! Do you play, my dear?”
“No,” Claudia said calmly. “At one time I thought of going in for it, but I hadn’t talent enough to make it anything but a grind, with all those Dresden courses to pass.”
“Must you have gone to Dresden? I don’t think that dear Ruth was ever out of England.”
“But I should only have studied it in order to teach.”
“My dear!” said kind Mrs Hilton, distressed. “I am sure that is very sad, at your age and all! Harry did say something, only—I had no idea! I hope, at any rate, you will take a nice holiday here, and—oh, you are much too young, dear, dear, dear!”
“Please don’t be sorry,” said Claudia, touched yet triumphant. “I have no particular need to work, but we feel that we should cast in our lot with those who have, and that no one has any right to stand idle. That is our position, you know.”
“And if I had been a returned convict, I should scarcely have frightened her more,” reflected the girl gleefully that night in a last sleepy retrospect which she cast on the evening. For a moment longer her thoughts lingered upon Captain Fenwick’s dominant look, then she dismissed him with a yawn.