"Well, thank you, Aunt Selina. What you have told me helps, an awful lot. Really!"
"I am glad, my dear," replied Miss Wimbourne, and when people entered the room a second or two later no one suspected the sudden bond of sympathy that had sprung up between the specimens of crabbed age and youth they found there.
"Cecilia, what's going to become of those two boys?" inquired Miss Wimbourne later in the evening, finding herself for the moment alone with her sister-in-law.
"I've been asking myself that question pretty steadily for the last twelve hours," answered Mrs. James. "I wish I could take them," she added, impulsively.
"Hardly, I suppose." If any of the remarks made in this conversation seem abrupt or inconsequent, it must be remembered that these two ladies understood each other pretty thoroughly without having to polish off or even finish their sentences, or even to make them consecutive.
"Unfortunately," went on Mrs. James, after a brief pause, "the whole thing depends entirely upon Hilary."
"The very last person—"
"Exactly. Yet what can one do?"
"It seems quite clear to me," said Aunt Selina, choosing her words carefully and slowly, "that Hilary will inevitably choose the one course which is most to be avoided. Hilary will want them to go on living here alone with him; preserve the status quo as far as possible. What do you think?"
"I am almost sure of it. But...."