‘All right, we’ve got to have a long talk presently. It isn’t all as jolly as you think, but I can’t help that.’
‘Why, what can be wrong, Dick?’
‘Never mind; it’ll all come out in time.’
Alice came back upon certain reflections which had occupied her earlier in the morning; they kept her busy through luncheon. Whilst she ate, Richard observed her closely; on the whole he could not perceive a great difference between her manners and Adela’s. Difference there was, but in details to which Mutimer was not very sensitive. He kept up talk about the works for the most part, and described certain difficulties concerning rights of way which had of late arisen in the vicinity of the industrial settlement.
‘I think you shall come and sit with me in the library,’ he said as they rose from table. And he gave orders that coffee should be served to them in that room.
The library did not as yet quite justify its name. There was only one bookcase, and not more than fifty volumes stood on its shelves. But a large writing-table was well covered with papers. There were no pictures on the walls, a lack which was noticeable throughout the house. The effect was a certain severity; there was no air of home in the spacious chambers; the walls seemed to frown upon their master, the hearths were cold to him as to an intruding alien. Perhaps Alice felt something of this; on entering the library she shivered a little, and went to warm her hands at the fire.
‘Sit in this deep chair,’ said her brother. ‘I’ll have a cigarette. How’s mother?’
‘Well, she hasn’t been quite herself,’ Alice replied, gazing into the fire. ‘She can’t get to feel at home, that’s the truth of it. She goes. very often to the old house.’
‘Goes very often to the old house, does she?’
He repeated the words mechanically, watching smoke that issued from his lips. ‘Suppose she’ll get all right in time.’