“Very good, my lady.”
She added, with an irritability rare with her:
“So pray don’t come bothering me about money. For the present, and for some time to come, we must ‘carry on’—that, I am told, is the correct expression—as best we may.”
“Certainly, my lady. In my humble opinion, the Hearl is right. I hope your ladyship knows that I shall cut down everything.”
He spoke as if the prospect of cheeseparing afforded him intense satisfaction, but Lady Selina didn’t notice that, and remarked:
“Yes, yes; you are a good, faithful soul. We must practise self-denial, even in our charities.”
Much to her gratification, Cicely behaved like a perfect darling. It made the fond mother miserable to think that her girl should have her “coming out” burked by cruel fate. But Cicely kissed her and said:
“I shall enjoy my good time all the more when it does come, Mums.”
Lady Selina inclined her head mournfully. She entertained no delusions on that point. Procrastination did not enhance the virgin joys of “coming out.” Nevertheless, she confronted an abominable situation with fortitude, making no protest when Cicely insisted upon becoming a V.A.D. That meant the loss of more “bloom.” Balm descended upon her lacerated tissues, you may be sure, when Cicely went to Wilverley Court. If dear Arthur seized this great opportunity all would be well. Striving to interpret the inscrutable ways of Providence, she seemed to discern the Omnipotent Finger tracing Cicely’s future in gleaming letters upon a dark background. Left alone in her big house, she denied herself cream, and drastically reduced her establishment.
It will be admitted that Grimshaw, bursting with impatience to give Upworthy a cleaner bill of health, had not chosen the most opportune moment to further his plans.