“Aren’t you going out this morning?” Miss Arden asked. “A beautiful day like this! You mustn’t mope about indoors. It’s not good for you.”

How dreadful it was to feel that you would like to wring your aunt’s neck! You must be getting more depraved than you knew.

“Yes, I’m going out to do my shopping. If you’ll wait while I put my hat on we might walk along together.”

“I’ll come and see your bedroom,” Miss Arden said. “Oh, it leads out of this? That’s convenient, at any rate.”

While Elizabeth searched in her wardrobe for a hat, Miss Arden inspected the dressing-table.

“Dear me, Elizabeth, where did you get this lovely powder-bowl?”

There was a pause.

“Stephen gave it to me,” Elizabeth said shortly.

“Oh!” Miss Arden put it down as though it were red-hot. “Is that a photograph of Mrs. Ramsay? I wonder that you have that on your mantelpiece.”

“I’m very fond of her.”

“Are you, my dear? You know, I never really cared for her. We always thought she was rather extraordinary. If only one could look ahead! That terrible sister too! What is she doing now?”

“I’ve no idea. I’ve not met Cynthia for some time. I see she brought out another book of poems the other day.”

Miss Arden said, “Oh!” very coldly, and inspected a pile of books.

“Those are going in the other room,” Elizabeth said. “I’m having some shelves put up.”

“Ah, the old favourites!” Miss Arden said, opening a copy of “Little Dorrit.” “I see you have some new ones. Who is Rose Macauley, my dear? I don’t think I have read any of her books.”

“She’s clever. Beyond me.”

“And what is this? Shelley! I’m afraid his poems would not appeal to me.”

“I love them,” Elizabeth said. “Just the sound of them. Cynthia sent me that on my birthday. I’d never read Shelley before. Are you ready, Aunt?”

They went out, and on the stairs met Mrs. Cotton who was on her way up to ask Elizabeth whether she wanted the spinach cooked for lunch or dinner. Also, could “the gal” get into Elizabeth’s sitting-room to sweep yet?

“I don’t know how you can stand that woman,” Miss Arden said as soon as the front-door closed behind them. “I don’t think you’ll like living by yourself for long, Elizabeth. It’s a miserable sort of existence.”

“We shall see,” Elizabeth answered lightly.