"She never complains," Mr Ffolliot said feebly.
"Complains," Mrs Grantly repeated scornfully. "We're not a complaining family. But I should have thought you with your strong love of the beautiful would at least have remarked how she has gone off in looks."
"She hasn't," said Mr Ffolliot with some heat.
"She looks her age, every day of it," Mrs Grantly persisted. "When we bring her back she'll look like Mary's sister!"
"How long do you propose to be away?"
"Oh, three weeks or a month; at the most a fortnight less than you have had every year for nineteen years."
Mr Ffolliot made no answer; he took out his cigarette case and lit a cigarette with hands that were not quite steady.
"You quite understand then, Hilary, that you are to put the whole weight of your authority into the scale that holds France for Margie?"
"I thought you said it was settled?"
"My dear man, you know what a goose she is; if she thought you hated it, nothing would induce her to go—you must consider her for once."