“Don’t unless you want to,” said her mother quickly. “I don’t think you ought to tell me anything. If you think it will interest me—tell me, but don’t use me as a mother, please.”
“Would it interest you to know that I am engaged?” It was out. Claudia breathed more freely. Then she blushed as her mother looked at her with unusual attention.
“Yes, that quite interests me. I have wondered once or twice what sort of a man you would choose. Who is it?”
“Gilbert Currey, mother.”
“Gilbert C——yes, the M.P.’s son. Does something, doesn’t he? A barrister? I remember his mother Marian Darby. She never liked me, and I returned the compliment; but we were once great friends. What made you choose her son?”
“Mother! I—I fell in love with him. Why do people marry?”
Circe smiled at her young daughter, who met her eyes quite squarely but was obviously uncomfortable.
“For hundreds of reasons, my dear. You’ll find out some of them later on. Of course, one must marry”—she retouched an eyebrow with a little brush—“just as one must have a birth certificate and a license for the motor.... I don’t think I’ve noticed him since he was a boy. I remember him at Wynnstay. I used to see him in a canoe on the river, deep in his books. Is he still strenuous and booky?”
“People say he is going to have a big career.” It was difficult to talk to her mother.
“Really? And you want to be part of that career? Well, I daresay it is all right. Better tell your father. I should think you might have done better from a worldly point of view, though the Curreys are rich, and Gilbert will succeed to the baronetcy.... You’ve really made up your mind? Your aunt was telling me the other day that you are considered one of the most attractive girls in Society to-day. She mentioned a Russian prince of great renown—I forget his name——”