Cut loose!
Could she?
That would demand an immense effort, something cataclysmal. Tiddy had not been deceived by Lady Selina’s surface gaiety, although much impressed by it as proof positive of what good-breeding might achieve. She knew perfectly well that Brian’s death must have been a shattering blow. Lady Selina had plenty of heart. Because of that, because she loved Cicely, she had assumed a mask. Nevertheless, it was equally obvious that this engagement, evoking as it did maternal energies and solicitude, had tempered the cruel bereavement. She heard a chastened voice, slightly querulous:
“I am fond of Arthur.”
Tiddy retorted disdainfully:
“I’m fond of chocs.”
“Have some,” said Cicely defiantly. “There’s a box over there, Charbonel and Walker’s.”
Tiddy helped herself. Silently, she offered the box to Cicely, who shook her head.
“I am fond of you,” said Tiddy, nibbling at a praline, “but I’m fonder of myself. That is the test. I shan’t marry till I find some man who can make me forget how fond I am of myself.”
Cicely considered this. Tiddy had spoken sincerely. Cicely, not sufficiently alert to weigh the effect of words, answered with equal sincerity: