'George,—you are such a darling!—and—and, such a goose!' She rubbed her cheek against his arm as though to take the edge off the epithet. 'The idea of Bridget's wanting to "look after" me! She'll want to manage me of course—and I'd much better let her do it. I don't mind!' And the speaker gave a long, sudden sigh.
'But I won't have you troubled and worried, when I'm not there to protect you!' cried Sarratt, fiercely. 'You could easily find a friend.'
But Nelly shook her head.
'Oh, no. That wouldn't do. Bridget and I always get on, George. We never quarrelled—except when I stuck to marrying you. Generally—I always give in. It doesn't matter. It answers perfectly.'
She spoke with a kind of languid softness which puzzled him.
'But now you can't always give in, dearest! You belong to me!' And his grasp tightened on the hand he held.
'I can give in enough—to keep the peace,' said Nelly slowly. 'And if you weren't here, it wouldn't be natural that I shouldn't live with Bridget. I'm used to her. Only I want to make you understand her, darling. She's not a bit like—well, like the people you admire, and its no good expecting her to be.'
'I shall talk to her before I go!' he said, half laughing, half resolved.
Nelly looked alarmed.
'No—please don't! She always gets the better of people who scold her.
Or if you were to get the better, then she'd visit it on me. And now
don't let's talk of her any more! What were we saying? Oh, I know—what
I was to do. Let's sit down again,—there's a rock, made for us.'