"Golf? I shouldn't be any good at that I'm afraid. Besides Hardrascliffe links are so far away. I haven't time."
"Time? Of course you have time. As much time as anyone. As me, for instance."
Mary shook her head slowly, and began to gather up the tea-things.
"You'll excuse me going away now, won't you? I shan't be long. You'll just have nice time to unpack comfortably and I expect John will be in any moment now."
She left the room.
Ursula curled herself comfortably on the sofa and putting another cushion behind her head, prepared to enjoy a grievance. Really it was rather casual of Mary to go and leave her just after her arrival. She did not seem to realize her good fortune in having her cousin there at all. "She's hopelessly limited and narrow-minded. Poor Mary! Anybody so thoroughly pleased with herself must be disillusioned one day. She'll come a cropper soon," prophesied Ursula.
She was too tired to go upstairs and dress. Besides, what was the use, when John and Mary never changed for high tea?
Her head sank back among the cushions.
"Oh, that you, Ursula? How are you?"
John stood before her holding out a polite but rather grimy hand. His beard was grizzled with frost. His farming boots distributed little pools of melting ice on the carpet. Leather breeches encased his great legs.