VII
As Ishbel had promised, it was but a family party at her house on the following evening, and after dinner, the men went to the billiard room, the women upstairs. Julia was to stay overnight, and after she and Ishbel had made themselves comfortable in negligées, they met in the boudoir for a talk. Bridgit was striding up and down as they entered, her hands clasped behind her. As they dropped into easy chairs, she took up her stand before the fire-screen.
“Julia,” she said fiercely, “you are going to fall in love with that man.”
“I am in love with him,” said Julia, coolly, lighting a cigarette.
“Good!” said Ishbel. “It is high time.”
“High time!” cried Mrs. Maundrell. “You could fall in love and I could fall in love, and no damage done. We have married Englishmen and gone straight ahead with our work. But not only is Julia the leader of a great party which demands her undivided allegiance, but this man is an American.”
“Perhaps he would live over here,” suggested Ishbel, who was normally hopeful. “He is far more sympathetic with our cause than Eric.”
“Not he. He is more American than the Americans—perhaps because he is a Californian. He told me all about his fight for reform in San Francisco—never heard anything so exciting—and he’s going to try it again after they’ve had another dose of corruption under the present mayor. Besides, there’s going to be a big fight this year to put in a reform governor, and he means to take part in it. He’ll never desert. It will be Julia —”
“Don’t excite yourself,” murmured Julia. “I didn’t say I meant to marry him.”
“But why not?” asked Ishbel. “We are sure to win this year, and then you will have done your great work. We should always need you, of course, but it will be mainly educational work for a long time, and the others can do that. It will be ages before women get into a Cabinet or even into Parliament. And—splendid idea—you could drill the American women, become the leader over there. With your experience and reputation you would be simply invaluable to them.”