They waited for Ferlie to announce her dubious tidings, but, to her mother's surprise, Ferlie said nothing.
This was making Mainwaring too exclusively her pigeon. Mrs. Carmichael tackled her at the hair-dressing hour when the lights were low. Extracted confession.
"But, my darling, do you realize...?" So obviously, Ferlie didn't.
She stood behind her mother and her eyes sought the shadows of tapping branches on the window with a wistful strained expression. The mail that week was late....
Yes, she had resolved three years earlier that she did not want to marry. He had suggested that type of husband which men in her father's position were usually able to provide for their daughters and she had scorned the nebulous suitor. Did He remember?
It was a long time since she had heard of Muriel Vane. After her return from abroad Muriel had gravitated to a different "Set." There were Rumours. Lady Cardew palpably refrained from quoting them in the presence of the Spotless Young of the Right Set. If Muriel had attracted Cyprian what would he have thought of Phyllis?
Peter looked quite stern at any mention of that quite ordinary Christian name now. Ferlie wondered if it were principle or whether he still considered himself irrevocably yoked to Phyllis's memory...
What was her mother saying about Peter? Mrs. Carmichael's plaintive tones duetted with the singing of the kettle laying the foundations for her nightly cup of cocoa.
"And, of course, you must do just as you think best.... Poor Peter! Your father's convalescence is being so retarded with worry. Though, I'm sure, at my time of life it isn't very easy to begin to do without things. You, fresh from school, young and strong, will probably not miss luxuries.... And ... your happiness is all that matters, darling. I wouldn't for the world persuade you against your inclination.... Your father always says I've been too weak with my children.... I wonder whether Peter will ever get over it? Lady Cardew thought Lord Clifford Greville-Mainwaring such a desirable young man. Your father and I would have been so much relieved—for that Simla Season may never come off. I was relying on the Durrants, but Gwen Durrant will soon be leaving school herself. There was the question of your passage-money too. Do you know there are more than a million superfluous women in England...?
"... Well, good night, darling. Yes, I'm disappointed, but you mustn't think of Us; only of Yourself. No, thank you. I don't think I feel like cocoa to-night, after all..."