“I confess I looked forward to you with a good deal of animosity,” he said.
“It was quite natural,” she said simply. “A stepmother is not of one's own choosing, as a rule.”
“She's usually resented,” said he.
“But I shall not be a stepmother,” she said quickly. Her eyes were serious for an instant, then filled with a luminous smile. “I shall be Yvonne to you, and you Frederic to me. Let it be a good beginning.”
“You are splendid,” he cried. “It's not going to be at all bad.”
“I am sure you will like me,” she said composedly.
Brood joined them at the fireside.
“My dear, Mrs Desmond will show you over the house when you are ready. You will be interested in seeing the old place. Later on I shall take you up to my secret hiding-place, as they say in books. Ranjab will have the rooms in order by this evening. Where is your daughter, Mrs Desmond?”
“She is at work on the catalogue, Mr Brood, in the jade room. In your last letter you instructed her to finish that——”
“But this is a holiday, Mrs Desmond,” said he, frowning. “Jones, will you ask Miss Lydia to join us for tea at half-past four?”