The test sufficed. Cicely filled her pail, and carried it demurely into a ward.
V
She knew by this time why Arthur talked to her with such flattering insistence. Tiddy would call it “window dressing.” Was it flirting to listen attentively, to appraise the wares, to smile demurely, to watch him inflate with the deliberate intention of deflating him later on? At this point, her thoughts became nebulous. If she knew Arthur better, she might like him more. When did liking turn into a warmer sentiment?
She went home for a week-end before Christmas.
Immediately she realised that her mother’s first kiss included a benediction. Lady Selina held her hands, gently pressing them. Then, with an exclamation of dismay, she examined them, noting broken nails, roughness of skin, and faint stains which defied Scrubbs’ Ammonia.
“Oh, dear!”
“Honourable scars, Mums.”
“The whole world is topsy-turvy. I hear you are called ‘Shandy.’ ”
“Matron calls me Chandos, and the V.A.D.S Shandy. What does it matter? I’m as hard as nails, and frightfully hungry. I hope you have a topping dinner.”
“Everything you like, darling. We shall be quite alone. Stimson is single-handed. This is a season of fasting and prayer, but you shan’t fast here.”