Paul nodded, with bright eyes. "The water of life," he said.
"And what is that, do you think?"
"I don't know. It's sure to be beautiful, though."
"Very, Paul, I think," replied Ursula, speaking very quietly as she often did.
Paul studied her face. "I would like you to be there," he said, a little restlessly.
"Would you?" she said. "Well, we shall see."
Next morning, Ursula went up to town and took up residence again in her flat. Mrs. Manning had fluttered about her all the afternoon, and learned nothing. Her daughter seemed wholly unaware that she might have any question to ask, and Mrs. Manning did not dare ask her anything directly. But she thought she might learn more from Paul. So, when her daughter's car had driven off, she and her sister walked round to the Manor with a note Ursula had left for Paul.
They found him at work. He got up, pen in hand, and a look in the back of his eyes that Mrs. Manning saw in her daughter's when she was very busily painting.
"Ursula's gone to town," said her mother, "and she's left you this note."
"Has she?" queried Paul. "She didn't tell me she was going." He tore it open, and read it quickly. It only took him a few seconds to read and he smiled as he finished.