She went on eagerly, pleased with the betrayal of feeling her words had evoked: 'Then I drove to the Settlement, where I listened patiently while Philip Hammond and Mrs. Pomfret poured their woes into my ears.'
'That I'm sure they did not,' he interrupted good-humouredly.
'Oh yes, they did! They don't keep everything for you. Well, Daphne Purdon is leaving—not, of course, of her own free will. You were right and I was wrong in that matter. But I think I've found just the right person to replace her.'
'H'm,' said he.
'Someone who will be quite ideal, whom even Mrs. Pomfret liked at first sight! But don't let's talk of the Settlement any more. Listen, rather, to my further good deeds. I am going to Brighton, a place I detest, in order to give pleasure to a good, kind little girl who is just now having a very bad time.'
'That,' he said,'is really meritorious. And when, may I ask, is this work of mercy to take place?'
'Next week; I shall be away for at least four days.'
'Well, perhaps I shall be in Brighton for a night,'—Winfrith brushed an invisible speck off his sleeve—'Wednesday night, myself. I do not share your dislike to the place. We can talk over Settlement affairs there, if we meet, as I suppose we shall?'
Penelope hesitated. 'Yes,' she said at last, rather absently. 'We can talk over things there better than here. I expect to go abroad rather earlier this spring.'
'Why that?' He could not keep the dismay out of his voice. 'I thought you were so fond of the spring in London?'