"You do your best. You want to be kind. But you're young. You can't understand. One day, perhaps, you'll know better," and she went away.
Was it Ellen or the daily life of Cladgate that was beginning to throttle Millie? She should have been so happy, but now a cloud had come. She suddenly distrusted life, hearing whispers down the corridors, seeing heads close together, murmurs under that horrible, hateful band-music. . . .
Why was everyone conspiring towards ugliness? On a beautiful morning, after a night of bad and disturbed dreams, she awoke very early, and going down to the pebbled beach below the hotel she was amazed by the beauty on every side of her. The sea turned lazily over like a cat in the sun, purring, asking for its back to be scratched; a veil of blue mist hung from earth to heaven; the grey sea-wall, at midday so hard and grim, was softly purple; the long grass sward above her head sparkling in the dew was unsoiled by the touch of any human being; no sound at all save suddenly a white bird rising, floating like a sigh, outlined against the blue like a wave let loose into mid-air and the sea stroking the pebbles for love of their gleaming smiles.
She sat under the sea-wall longing for Bunny to be there, clutching her love with both hands and holding it out like a crystal bowl to the sea and air for them also to enjoy.
She had a perfect hour and returned into the hotel.
III
Then Ellen discovered. She faced Millie in Victoria's sitting-room, her face graven and moulded like a mask.
"So you're engaged to him after all?"
"Yes. I would have told you before only I knew that you wouldn't like it——"
"Wouldn't like it?" With a short, "What does it matter what I like? All the same you've been kind to me once or twice, and for that I'm not going to see you ruining your life without making an effort."