“The hussy! What does she mean?”
My cousin made a gesture seaward. “That!” he said. “She’s a mermaid.”
“What?”
“Out there.”
“Where?”
“There!”
Lady Poynting Mallow scanned the sea as if it were some curious new object. “It’s an amphibious outlook for the family,” she said after reflection. “But even then—if she doesn’t care for society and it makes Harry happy—and perhaps after they are tired of—rusticating——”
“I don’t think you fully realise that she is a mermaid,” said Melville; “and Chatteris, you know, breathes air.”
“That is a difficulty,” admitted Lady Poynting Mallow, and studied the sunlit offing for a space.
“I don’t see why it shouldn’t be managed for all that,” she considered after a pause.