She welcomed Grimshaw delightfully, so Tiddy thought. But the young man did not acquit himself quite adequately. He appeared to be slightly brusque and ill at ease. Was it possible that he kowtowed to the lady of the manor? Or, more likely hypothesis, was he embarrassed in the presence of Cicely? He accepted a cup of tea under pressure, and seated himself beside his hostess. Yes, Dr. Pawley was in his garden, convalescent. The faithful Ellen held him under a watchful eye. He would remain in his chair till Grimshaw returned.
“I am very glad to hear such a good account of my dear old friend. Will you allow me to see him to-morrow?”
“Certainly. He is looking forward to that.”
“Through him,” Lady Selina continued graciously, “we have heard of you and your work in France. . . .”
She went on suavely, but Grimshaw responded in monosyllables. It occurred to Tiddy that this visit might be professional. Grimshaw was not behaving as a visitor. Tiddy jumped up.
“I must be off,” she declared.
But in Melshire all leave-takings are protracted. Five minutes elapsed before Miss Tiddle mounted her bicycle. Cicely accompanied her to the front door.
“Are you weakening?” asked Tiddy.
“No.”
“Your mother was sweet to Mr. Grimshaw.”