“How awful!” Elizabeth interjected, feeling that she ought to say something.

“Well, I don’t know,” pondered Stephen. “If you’re Futuristic at a tea-fight you must expect the worst. By the way, we must ask the Tyrells down, ’Lisbeth. They’ll amuse you.”

“You’d better not,” said Nina. “Bertie’s got a marmoset, and he won't go anywhere without it. He brought it down to us for the week-end, and it made havoc amongst the Saxifraga TJmbrosa.”

“The animal showed a considerable amount of discrimination then,” said Stephen.

Nina gathered up her belongings, and rose.

“No, it was purely vindictive. It removed the cockatoo’s crest. Mother nearly committed suicide. Thank you very much for my nice tea, Elizabeth. The next time you see me I shall have white kid gloves on. You’ll know what that means. We’ll bring Daddy to call on you too, and he’ll walk round the garden, saying, ‘Charming, charming! What induced you to plant the peonies in so unsuitable a spot?’ Only he won’t call them peonies, so you’ll be none the wiser. Goodbye, both of you! I’ve enjoyed myself awfully.”

“We’ll walk with you to the gate,” Elizabeth said.

“I shan’t,” Stephen murmured. “I’m busy.”

“Stephen!” Elizabeth exclaimed, just a little shocked.

Chapter Fifteen

Lady Ribblemere from the Manor was the next to call. She filled the drawing-room, or so it seemed to Elizabeth, and talked heavily, but kindly, about hardy perennials and young ducklings. Then she said,

“So you went to Florence on your honeymoon. That must have been very delightful! The Uffizzi and—and that sort of thing. I always think it so good for one to travel. One is inclined to become insular, don’t you think? But of course when you get to my age you prefer home-comforts. And how is Stephen?”

“Very well, thank you.” Elizabeth wondered how often she would have to answer this question. “Hard at work.”

“Ah, then I will not disturb him!” Lady Ribblemere said, rising ponderously. “I will just look in at him and say how do you do?”

Feeling entirely helpless, Elizabeth followed her into the library. Stephen looked up, and rose, putting down his pen.

“No, don’t get up,” said Lady Ribblemere. “I shall feel I am interrupting you if you do. I only popped in to see how you were, and to tell you how pleased we all are to see you back again, with your wife.”

Stephen shook hands, saying that Lady Ribblemere was very kind.

“And how is your dear mother?” she went on. “It is quite an age since I saw her.”

“She’s flourishing, thank you,” Stephen answered. “Won’t you sit down?”

“No, I really mustn’t stay a moment,” she said, choosing the sofa. “I was on my way out when I decided to look in on you. And how is Cynthia?”