Then in my weakness I spoke to Alma, who answered:
"Certainly, my sweet girl. We shall miss you dreadfully, but it's your duty. And then you'll see that dear Mr. . . . What d'ye callum?"
Finally, feeling myself a poor, pitiful hypocrite, I apologised for my going away to the guests also, and they looked as if they might say: "We'll survive it, perhaps."
The night before my departure my maid said:
"Perhaps your ladyship has forgotten that my time's up, but I'll stay until you return if you want me to."
I asked her if she would like to stay with me altogether and she said:
"Indeed I should, my lady. Any woman would like to stay with a good mistress, if she is a little quick sometimes. And if you don't want me to go to your father's I may be of some use to you here before you come back again."
I saw that her mind was still running on divorce, but I did not reprove her now, for mine was turning in the same direction.
Next morning most of the guests came to the hail door to see me off, and they gave me a shower of indulgent smiles as the motor-car moved away.