“Why? What?” she asked in bewilderment. “What have I said?”
“Go on, my love; don’t let me interrupt you,” he said. Strickland came in with some tea and a plate of sandwiches. “I suppose it is no good offering you tea, sir?” she inquired.
“No, thank you, I have got everything I want,” he answered.
“I am coming to bed in a few minutes,” Teresa said, nodding to her.
Strickland looked appealingly at Cyril and hesitated. “You’d better stay here a bit I think,” he said. “You won’t sleep after that stuff.”
“Oh yes, I shall. I’m awfully sleepy,” she said.
Strickland pulled herself together and cleared her throat. “I’m sorry, Miss Teresa,” she said boldly, “but there’s been a slight accident in your room. Your hot water bottle leaked, and the bed was wet through so I’ve taken the things down to the fire. I’ll tell you as soon as they are dry.”
“Very well; but goodness, how late it is!” Teresa said as she glanced at the clock. “Nearly one. Has mother gone to bed?”
“Not yet,” said Strickland. “She’ll be down by-and-by. You’ll see her if you wait a little.” She shut the door and Teresa settled herself again in the armchair with her tea. “The Prices have got Aldwych for another six months,” she said, “but David thought perhaps if we were married in the spring I might go out with him to see his place over there and help him to settle up, and then come back when they leave. I shouldn’t so much mind leaving all of it if I didn’t go straight from Emma’s office to a house with hot towel rails and pheasant for breakfast and a peach house.”
“Well, we all have our troubles, but I feel if I were given my choice that that is the one I could face with most courage,” said Cyril. “I could tear myself away from Emma’s office more resolutely than from almost any luxury I know. But then I can’t live up to your friend Mrs. Vachell, who hunts with George Washington and runs with Ananias from a sense of duty. I admit I wasn’t happy in the office when you took me there.”