Mr. Hardwick came forward to receive them. The crowd opened to let them pass out to the carriage. Other people moved forward to lay their wreaths on the Cross.

Mary saw that Lily was radiant with triumph.

“The old gentleman was wonderful, wonderful!” Mr. Hardwick was telling her.

Mr. Askew, in a dickey and a sort of Eton collar worn under his coat, came forward and shouted in Mr. Vernon’s ear:

“It’s grand to see you about again, sir. It’s quite like old times.”

John grunted and said something like: “Awa ga ga, wa ga.”

Mr. Askew beamed with pleasure:

“I was just telling your father that this is quite like the old times.”

Ramsbotham had screwed his eyeglass back into his inflamed eye. Perhaps owing to some extraordinary scruple of delicacy, he hadn’t worn it during the service. And he was so relieved, poor man, that it was all over.

“Can I give you a lift home?” he asked Mary. “I’ve got the car.”

“You can, with pleasure. I was just wondering if we’d missed the bus. That is, on condition you stay to lunch. You’ll probably meet your family.”

I suppose I’m as near as Ram’s B can hope to get to the Vernon family to-day, she thought—calculating whether they’d possibly got enough to eat in the house. Is there a reflected glamour about me? How thrilling. To-morrow night we’ll have to keep going on cheese and salad, unless I send Maurice out to cadge a meal in the village. Which she’d done before now, successfully.

Mr. Vernon made further noises, Lily acting as interpreter:

“Ercurumber yerfther.”

“Mr. Vernon says he can remember your father, Mr. Askew.”

“Can you really, sir? Can you indeed?”

Lily turned from Mr. Askew to thank Ramsbotham for bringing them the wreath.

It’s very interesting, thought Mary, to watch the tricks which a girl cultivates when she first comes out sticking to her when she’s nearly middle-aged. Lily still opened her eyes very wide when she talked to men. (But no, thought Mary, that’s spiteful.)

“I really don’t know what we should have done if you hadn’t been on the spot.”

Ram’s B was absolutely as red as a villa, blurting out about it being:

“A pleasure, Mrs. Vernon, I assure you.”

“You must come and see us again soon.”

Oh, there’s no doubt about it, thought Mary, Lily is a little brute. That can’t be mere stupidity. Or does she really like him? Good God.