“Few people less so, I should think. The letter reached you five days after you left here, you say. It was written the day before, of course?”
“The evening before. I know she said she was writing when the house was quiet. But I’m awfully glad she’s all right. She’s so unexpected, isn’t she? You never can tell what she’ll do next.”
“I used to notice the same thing about my wife in the early days of our acquaintance. There is a peculiar charm about that unexpectedness when it is introduced into politics. It quite prevents any feeling of flatness.”
“Now one would have imagined”—Usk was still pursuing his own train of thought—“that she would have come to meet me after that letter.”
“The unexpected again, you see.”
“But how did you know anything about our——? Well, it wasn’t a quarrel——”
“The suspension of friendly relations? I inferred it from what I saw after you were gone.”
“And you spoke to Félicia? Very kind of you, I’m sure, but—well, you know——”
“You prefer to conduct your own love affairs? Quite so. Make your mind easy; I did not speak to Félicia. But if I remember rightly, I did send you in your mother’s letter a strong hint not to stay away more than the two days you intended at first.”
“Yes, I know, but you said ‘unless it will damage your chances,’ and it would have done, horribly. You see, it was such a piece of good luck old Morrell’s taking to me so tremendously, when he had hated the very mention of a successor before, that I couldn’t go and hurt his feelings. He would drag me round the constituency, and hunt up all the local organisers to introduce me to them, and we really covered an immense amount of ground. The party agent said I couldn’t have made a better start.”