“It would nearly kill me,” replied Lady Selina solemnly.
“Arabella nearly died when she heard an old duchess pronounce ‘yellow’ ‘yaller.’ ”
“That used to be the proper pronunciation, my dear.”
Cicely held her tongue.
Lady Selina, as usual, blamed the school. A girl brought up at home would not venture to criticise, even allusively, her elders. She was aware that Miss Tiddle criticised the Author of her Being! Cicely hastily changed the talk, describing, not without sprightliness, her adventures and misadventures as a V.A.D. Incidentally she mentioned Wilverley, conscious at once that the atmosphere became charged with electricity. Lady Selina, at mere mention of his name, purred with pleasure. To stroke her fur the right way became a temptation hard to resist. Cicely, however, succeeded in pleasing her mother without committing herself. That, at least, was her happy conviction when she went to bed. Snug in bed, and congratulating herself upon a strategy that Tiddy might have disdained, she heard a soft tap upon the door. Lady Selina, majestic in a brocaded dressing-gown, entered. Cicely was astonished and moved. Such visits were rare. Lady Selina fussed over her, tucked her up, and kissed her fondly, whispering:
“You are my own little girl. You mustn’t worry about me. As I said, there are moments when this unhappy world seems upside down. I ask myself where I am. But I have the greatest confidence in you, darling. That is such a comfort—to be sure of those you love. Sleep well, and have breakfast in bed if you want to.”
Cicely did not sleep too well. She lay awake for at least an hour, feeling strangely restless and uncomfortable. And she woke up many times, tingling with an exasperation which she tried in vain to resolve into elements. She wished both Wilverley and Grimshaw at Timbuctoo; she wished that she was like Tiddy, who could “take on” three suitors as a “rag”; she almost wished she had been born of humbler parentage. Tiddy assured her that the old order was “down and out,” never to rise again. Admittedly, Tiddy knew nothing of the old order. And Cicely dimly beheld a new disorder, with blatant voices and not too clean linen, that might exercise a greater tyranny than any aristocracy of rank and starched shirts. For the moment, she ultimately decided, she knew what she wanted—to be left alone.
VI
She woke up delightfully surprised to find herself in her own pretty room, and with no desire for breakfast in bed. Snow had fallen during the night. Looking out of her window, she could see the conventional Christmas landscape. Nature seemed to have tidied everything for the great festival. Upon the previous afternoon Cicely noticed that the gardens had lost something of their trim appearance. Leaves rotted upon the paths and lawns. Rabbits had dared to invade the topiary garden! The snow covered leaves and fallen timber. Presently Lady Selina appeared, scattering crumbs for the friendly robins. Cicely greeted her gaily.
“You slept well, my darling?”