“It is too dreadful that you will take Julia from us,” she said plaintively. “Couldn’t you live in London?”
“Not yet.” Tay turned upon her a face of almost boyish delight. “But if she’ll really have me, we could come over every summer. Do you think she will?”
“In the end, of course. I’ve known Julia for sixteen years, and waited for her to fall in love. She never does anything by halves. But she may think she can’t leave England yet.”
“I wish these women didn’t take themselves so seriously,” said Tay, viciously. “One would think the fate of England depended on them.”
Ishbel laughed. “How like Eric! But we are used to the sixteenth century masculine attitude. It wouldn’t matter so much about me, except that every one of us helps to swell the total, but Julia is a great leader, with a wonderful power of attracting attention, making recruits, and inspiring her followers. We couldn’t spare her if the fight was to go on, but if it is won this year—well, I have told her to go and leave the rest to the other women in command.”
“Oh, you have! Bully for you! What did she say?”
“She wouldn’t commit herself. If I were you, I’d simply marry her.”
“So I shall, if I’m convinced she really cares for me.”
“You don’t doubt it?”
“I don’t know. She’s a puzzle to me. Sometimes I think she’s the most natural being on earth, and at others—well—the so-called complex women aren’t in it.”