And her clear eyes saw through the camouflage. She had a suspicion.
"I don't see," she said, "why you should have to go without your rent just because Mrs. Levitt doesn't want to pay it."
She was sorry for Waddy. He might be ever so wise about Mrs. Levitt's affairs; but he was a perfect goose about his own. No wonder Fanny had asked her to take care of him.
"I've no doubt," he said, "she wants to pay it; but she's a war widow,
Barbara, and she's hard up. I can't rush her for the rent."
"She's no business to rush you for trellis work and water pipes you didn't order."
"Well—well," he couldn't be angry with the child. She was so loyal, so careful of his interests. And he couldn't expect her to take kindly to Elise. There would be a natural jealousy. "That's Palmer and Hoskins's mistake. I can't haggle with a lady, Barbara. Noblesse oblige." But he winced under her clear eyes.
She thought: "How about the fifty and the five hundred? At this rate noblesse might oblige him to do anything."
She could see through Mrs. Levitt.
Mr. Waddington kept on looking at the clock.
It was now ten minutes to four, and at any moment Elise might be there. His one idea was to get Barbara Madden out of the way. Those clear eyes were not the eyes he wanted to be looking at Elise, to be looking at him when their eyes met. And he understood that that fellow Bevan was going to call for her at four. He didn't want him about. "Where are you going for your walk?" he said.