“Toujours Mademoiselle Milligan!”
Lady Pomfret answered with perfect gravity:
“Millie is so jealous, when I forsake her.”
“But I am jealous that you don’t.”
She swept the cards into a heap.
“There! What a mother I am!”
They began to talk, lowering their voices. But she still sat erect. It was Lionel who relaxed. And gazing at her, the son observed an air of vigilance, something new and arresting. Was she watching him, on the alert for changes which she must discover? He whispered to her:
“Father is asleep, but you look so wide-awake.”
“Perhaps I am straining my eyes to see you.”
“Do I still seem small to you?”