Mary echoed this statement a few minutes later, when she accompanied Hugh to his car, but he only laughed and said he rather enjoyed Vicky's antics.
"You don't have to live with her," said Mary.
"No, I admit it's tough on you. Seriously, Mary, do you believe that your extraordinary cousin really did make up that blackmailing story?"
"It's a dreadful thing to say, but I can't help seeing that it would be just like him," replied Mary.
Harold White, to whom Janet faithfully delivered Ermyntrude's message, walked over to Palings after dinner. The party he disturbed was not an entirely happy one, for the Prince, who did not believe in letting grass grow under his feet, had been interrupted at the beginning of a promising tete-a-tete with his hostess, by the entrance into the room of Vicky and Mary. This naturally put an end to his projected tender passages, and he was annoyed when he discovered that neither lady seemed to have the least intention of leaving him alone with Ermyntrude. Mary sat down with a tea-cloth which she was embroidering, an occupation, which, however meritorious in itself, the Prince found depressing; and Vicky (in a demure black taffeta frock with puff sleeves) chose to enact the role of innocent little daughter, sinking down on to a floor cushion at her mother's feet, and leaning her head confidingly against Ermyntrude's knees. As she had previously told Mary that she thought it was time she awoke the mothercomplex in Ermyntrude, Mary had no difficulty in recognising the tactics underlying this touching pose. The Prince, of course, could not be expected to realise that this display of daughterly affection was part of a plot to undo him, but he very soon became aware of a change in an atmosphere which had been extremely propitious. He made the best of it, for it was part of his stock-in-trade to adapt himself gracefully to existing conditions, but Mary surprised a very unamiable look on his face when she happened to glance up once, and saw him watching Vicky.
When Harold White came in, maternal love gave place to palpable hostility. Ermyntrude cut short his speech of condolence, by saying: "I'm sure it's very kind of you to spare the time to come and see me, Mr. White. I hope it wasn't asking too much of you!"
"Oh, not a bit of it! Only too glad!" responded White, drawing up a chair. "Poor old Wally! Dreadful business, isn't it? The house doesn't seem the same without him."
"I dare say it doesn't," said Ermyntrude. "But what I want to know, Mr. White, is what Wally was doing at your place yesterday."
He looked slightly taken aback. "Doing there? What do you mean? He wasn't doing anything."
"What did he go for?" demanded Ermyntrude.