“What about John and the pictures, darling?” she asked when she rejoined Stella. It had been arranged for John to call for them at three o'clock and take them to the Royal Academy.
“I don't think I feel equal to it,” said Stella, truly. She was not yet quite “like every one else.” Her sensitive nature also shrank from meeting John. Before him she would shrivel up with shame. “You go with him, Auntie; I 'll rest here and read.”
On the stroke of three came John, who, having been detained on his business in town, had not gone home for luncheon. It was therefore from Lady Blount that he heard of Stella's adventure. He listened with his heavy frown, moving restlessly about the room, his hands in his pockets.
“I would give a thousand pounds for it not to have happened,” said he.
“It's done now. We must make the best of it.”
“Unity was discreet? Are you sure?”
“Quite sure.”
He walked about for a while in silence.
“Perhaps it's just as well Stella should know so much,” he conceded, “though I would rather she had learned it differently. I suppose she was somewhat upset?”
“She's still delicate,” said Lady Blount, “and she's all sensitiveness—always has been, as you know. I have made her lie down.”