“No, but she thinks if they both see one another—at any rate she’s going to try.”
“Now?”
“Yes. In a few minutes. I’ll go up and just tell Mother that there’s a caller in the drawing-room. Then leave them alone together—”
Millie sighed. “It would be too lovely for anything if it really happened. But it won’t—it can’t. Mother’s extraordinary. I don’t believe she ever loved Katie at all, at least only as an idea. She’ll never forgive her—never—and she’ll always hate Philip.”
“How’s Grandfather?”
“Very bad. He says he will come down to-night, although it’ll probably kill him. However, now they’ve arranged that his presents shall be in the little drawing-room upstairs. Then he won’t have so far to go. He’s awfully bad, really, and he’s as hard about Katie as Mother is. He won’t have her name mentioned. It’s simply, I believe, that it’s terrible to him to think that she could love Philip better than him!”
“And how’s everyone else?”
“Oh, well, it’s all right, I suppose. But it isn’t very nice. I’m going off to live with Miss Emberley as soon as they’ll let me. Aunt Aggie’s been awful. And then one day she went suddenly to see Katie, and Mother found out somehow. Mother never said anything, but Aunt Aggie’s going to take a flat by herself somewhere. And since that she’s been nicer than I’ve ever known her. Quite soft and good-tempered.”
“Does Mother know that we all go to see Katie?”
“Sometimes I think she does—sometimes that she doesn’t. She never says a word. She seems to think of nothing but improving the place now. She must be very lonely, but she doesn’t show anyone anything. All the same it’s impossible without Katie—I—”