“We’ve made a plan.”
She was properly excited.
“Yes. You’re going to live here.”
“Here? . . . Oh!” And she looked about among the pictures and the old furniture and the rich curtains and hangings, and timidly, shyly, as though she were not certain how they would take it, adopted them.
They made her sit at the head of the table and placed themselves on either side of her, and, as Robert poured her out a glass of wine (Berncastler Doktor), he said:
“You know, the old place has always wanted this.”
“Wanted—what?” asked Matilda. “I think it’s perfect.”
“A charming hostess,” said Robert, with an elaborate little bow of courtliness.
A fortnight later saw Robert installed at Sunningdale and the Beenhams in occupation of his chambers. They shared only the dining-room; Old Mole had the upstairs rooms and Matilda those downstairs. It was his arrangement, and came from reaction against the closeness in which they had lived during the long pilgrimage from lodging to lodging.