“But you won’t come. Well, don’t forget that I’ve asked you. If you do want help at any time or—or advice —don’t forget that I’m there, waiting. Dear me, that sounds as though I should sit at home all day, listening for the bell to ring. What a dreadful occupation! Don’t forget, Elizabeth. I’m—I’m not really—so terribly biassed. At least, I try not to be, and anyway we were friends, weren’t we? What crowds of people! I can’t possibly talk here. Goodbye, my dear.”

She was gone in a moment, leaving Elizabeth softened, and unhappy. Mater was so awfully nice. Not many mothers would speak to their erring daughters-in-law as she had spoken. Of course she hated you; how could she help it? You couldn’t blame her for that; Stephen was her son.

Cynthia let in the clutch with a jerk.

“Good Lord!” she said. Her tone was eloquent.

“Yes. Well, I know, darling, but what could I do?”

“I should have thought you’d have run a mile sooner than meet her.”

“Oh, no, Cynny, not at my age and certainly not in this skirt. And if I—what’s the word I want?—indulge (how clever of me!) indulge my private feelings I shan’t make matters any better between them. And I want to do that, Cynny.”

“He’s well rid of her,” Cynthia said.

“That’s just what he isn’t, darling. Or if he is, he’ll never realise it, so what’s the good of talking like that? He’s miserable—and she’s miserable too.”

“Oh?” Cynthia looked at her for a fleeting moment.

“Yes, darling. And so pale and thin.”

“I’m glad to hear it. She’s spoiled Stephen’s life.”

“I won’t believe it. She’ll go back to him. She must go back to him.”

“Like a romance. Not she. Far more likely to hop off with the Tertium Quid.”

“Oh, no! Elizabeth would never do that. She isn’t that sort a bit. Besides Thomas liked her.”

“Quite conclusive,” Cynthia said.

“Moreover, darling—what a gorgeous word!—Anthony thinks it’ll come right in the end.”

“Anthony’s a fool, then.”

“Not a bit, Cynny. Anyway, that doesn’t matter a bit. The only thing that matters is that Stephen loves her.”

“And she doesn’t love Stephen. A hopeless situation.”

Mrs. Ramsay sighed.

“I know. Dear me, how tiresome and awful it all is! I’m sorry for Elizabeth. I can’t help being sorry for her. She was too young. She couldn’t possibly know her own mind.”

“Hasn’t got one to know. No grit either. Having married Stephen she ought to have stuck it out.”

“Yes, darling, but it wouldn’t have improved matters. Not in the long run. She couldn’t have made Stephen happy that way.”

“Nor this.”