"No; but it was all very queer and strained, and Jon could see it was."
Jolyon drew a long breath, and said:
"I've often wondered whether we've been right to keep it from him. He'll find out some day."
"The later the better, Jolyon; the young have such cheap, hard judgment. When you were nineteen what would you have thought of YOUR mother if she had done what I have?" Yes! There it was! Jon worshipped his mother; and knew nothing of the tragedies, the inexorable necessities of life, nothing of the prisoned grief in an unhappy marriage, nothing of jealousy, or passion—knew nothing at all, as yet!
"What have you told him?" he said at last.
"That they were relations, but we didn't know them; that you had never cared much for your family, or they for you. I expect he will be asking YOU."
Jolyon smiled. "This promises to take the place of air-raids," he said. "After all, one misses them."
Irene looked up at him.
"We've known it would come some day."
He answered her with sudden energy: