Nothing

ON A Sunday afternoon in nineteen-forty-eight John Pomfret, a widower of forty-five, sat over lunch with Miss Liz Jennings at one of the round tables set by a great window that opened on the park, a view which had made this hotel loved by the favoured of Europe when they visited London.

He did not look at the girl and seemed nervous as he described his tea the previous Sunday when Liz had to visit her mother ill with flu so that he had been free to call on Jane Weatherby, a widow only too well known to Miss Jennings. It was wet then, did she remember, he was saying, so unlike this he said, and turned his face to the dazzle of window, it had been dark with sad tears on the panes and streets of blue canals as he sat by her fire for Jane liked dusk, would not turn on the lights until she couldn't see to move, while outside a single street lamp was yellow, reflected over a thousand rain drops on the glass, the fire was rose, and Penelope came in. Jane had cried out with loving admiration and there the child stood, no taller than the dark armchair, all eyes, her head one long curl coppered next the fire and on the far side as pale as that street lamp or as small flames within the grate, and she was dressed in pink which the glow blushed to rose then paled then glowed once more to a wild wind in the chimney before their two faces dark across Sunday shadows.

"Then you're to be married" Jane had cried and so it was he realized, as he now told Miss Jennings, that the veil of window muslin twisted in a mist on top of the child's head to fall to dark snow at her heels, with the book pressed between two white palms in supplication, in adorable humility, that all this spelled magic marriage, heralded a bride without music by firelight, a black mouth trembling mischief and eyes, huge in one so young, which the fire's glow sowed with sparkling points of rose.

"Oh aren't you lucky" Jane said "you sweet you?" but the infant said no word.

It was then he fell, he told Miss Jennings, He had gone on his knees. Not direct onto the floor, he explained. No, he used one of those small needlework cushions women put about a room and the fact was Penelope had made no objection when he suggested the ceremony should take place at once. There was a cigar band handy in the ashtray for a ring and he had, he swore it, looked first at Jane who'd only said "Why not then darling?" Thus it is he explained to Miss Jennings that the great mistakes in life are made. And it was Jane, he went on, had called out "Wilt thou take this man?" while the little girl stayed agreeably silent, had continued "for richer or poorer, for better or for worse" fight through her own remembered version of the service. Or perhaps Jane had altered the words to make it unreal to herself, Mr Pomfret did not know he said. But the harm was there.

He came out of his description to find Miss Jennings laughing.

"Oh my dear" she gasped "you should never be allowed to play with small children. Particularly not little girls!"

"I know, I know" he said.

He objected that Jane had not cried and went on to explain that so soon as this mock ceremony ended with Penelope flown to her mother's arms he'd taken it all a fatal step forward and asked the child to sit on her husband's knee.

"You see they made an absolute picture" he explained.

"You know what Janie's eyes are with that wonderful blessing out of the huge things."

"Well?" Miss Jennings demanded when he paused.

"Just look at the man over there Liz I ask you" he temporized. "Where was I? Oh yes" and went on to describe Penelope's little face buried in Jane's bosom. He'd made a further invitation on which Jane did not call him to order, then suddenly, he said, it broke, there was a great wail came out with a "Mummy I don't want" after which nothing was any use, all had been tears.

"I nearly sobbed myself. Oh the blame I had to take!

No but seriously you can't think it wrong of me Liz?"

"Are you seeing a lot of Jane these days?" Miss Jennings wanted to be told.

"She's supposed to lunch here this very afternoon" he answered. "Which is as much as I ever see her, once in a blue moon, except when you choose to go sick-nursing."

"Mother isn't often" she began.

"My dear what's come over you" he interrupted "I wasn't serious. No but do look over that man again! Well as you can imagine" he proceeded "it's gone on ever since.

Whenever I ring I get the latest the child has imagined, she simply never seems to sleep now at all isn't it awful, and the little boy who comes to tea with her quite heartbroken; Liz do say you don't think it was dreadful of me!"

"What man did you mean?"

"Over there with a wig and the painted eyebrows."

"Oh no how disgusting. But I can't see anyone even remotely like! Well go Oho This story of yours begins to amuse me rather, darling."

"There's no more. But look here Liz you can't think it was indecent can you now?"

"Not a very nice thing after all."

"But I couldn't tell how she would react to sitting on my knee could I?"

"You should never have married her."

"Yes but Liz she didn't once in practice settle on my knee."

"That's not the point dear. Now Jane won't ever hear the last!" Miss Jennings sniffed. "Well you said she was due and here she comes. We've simply talked her into the room!" Liz made a face as he craned to see Jane.

"Still Dick Abbot" Mr Pomfret remarked of the man with her. "Hello there." He waved. With a great smile and one or two nods that seemed to promise paradise, Mrs Weatherby changed course, made her way between tables to kiss Liz, to lay with a look of mischief and delight between John's two palms a white hand which he pressed as had her own child the imaginary psalter.

The two women greeted one another warmly.

"And how's Penelope?" he asked in his most indifferent voice.

"She's just a little saint" the mother answered. "Oh weren't you wicked! I suppose he's confessed to you Liz?

Isn't it simply unbelievable!" But she was smiling with great goodnature.

"Have you heard about poor old Arthur?" John inquired.

" Arthur Morris, no" Jane said, her face at once serious, the eyes great and fixed.

"Only a simple nail in the toe of his left shoe" John told them. "A small puncture in the ball of the foot. But they've had to take the big toe off and now he's dangerously ill." He looked up at Jane. Her eyes grew round.

"Oh no" she said, then began to shake. She was soon helplessly giggling without a sound. Then it spread to Liz who clapped a hand over her mouth above blue eyes that watered with silent laughter.

"They may even have to amputate the ankle" he added smiling broadly now.

"His ankle?" Jane cried, a tremor in her voice. Miss Jennings' shoulders began to heave. "Forgive me I can't help myself. Dick have you heard?" Mrs Weatherby called out and turned around as though the escort must be close behind. He was nowhere near.

"But how rude of Richard" she exclaimed, serious again at once.

Dick Abbot at that moment was in conference with a youthful-seeming creature dressed up in the gold braid of a hotel porter and who turned away to bully a headwaiter in white tie and tails.

"Table trouble" John said.

"I ought to be on my way I suppose" Mrs Weatherby announced, then began her farewell smile. "Good-bye darlings" she murmured, as if to promise everything again.

"The Japanese do" Mr Pomfret explained to her back.

"Do what good God?" Miss Jennings demanded.

"They all laugh even when their very own are at death's door. It's nerves. You don't think that dreadful surely?

Once Jane starts I've as much as I can do to stop myself."

"She's rather sweet" Liz said "though I say so as shouldn't."

He seemed to ignore this.

"The young don't laugh" he complained.

"I do, I can't help it" she said.

"They don't" he insisted gloomily.

"So what about me?" asked Miss Jennings all smiles.

"I love you" he said smiling back. "That's one reason I love you Liz."

"Well then? We've been over every one of your other friends haven't we? And lunch Sunday's as much as we ever seem to have. So let's talk about me."

"Oh don't mention Sunday darling please, that brings up tomorrow, our all inevitably going back to work. Why it's too despairing" and his voice rose "too too awful" and he flapped both hands "like a dip into the future, every hope gone, endless work work work."

The creature in porter's uniform was close by, hurried across upon these gestures, the headwaiter in attendance.

"What is there Mr Pomfret?" he exclaimed. "Is not everything to your satisfaction?"

Miss Jennings began to laugh helplessly.

"No Pascal, nothing, I'm quite all right. Tell me, who are these other people on all sides?"

The headwaiter stepped back.

"Oh Mr Pomfret sir" he hissed "they are not your people, they are any peoples sir; they come here now like this, we do not know them Mr Pomfret."

"Yes Gaspard, so I'd noticed" and he winked his far eye at Miss Jennings. Upon which Pascal spoke furiously to Gaspard who made off.

"For we do not see you often enough these years" Pascal said to John, bowing low to leave in his turn.

"Thank you, yes that will be all." Mr Pomfret spoke softly to the retreating back. "That man's ageless" he complained to a smiling Liz. He went on "How old would you say he was?"

"Now how about me?" she demanded.

"Oh about thirty-five" he answered his own question.

"This is outrageous" Liz said. She was twenty-nine.

"But it's true" John abruptly insisted. "My daughter keeps a straight face on these occasions, in fact I try Mary all sorts of times and never get a smile out of her."

"Mary's sweet" Miss Jennings announced.

"I know'" her father said. "But she just hasn't that brand of humour or her nerves are over strong. Jane's Philip at twenty is the same. What is it now, darling?"

"Thank God I'm too young to have children that age."

But Mr Pomfret was not, it seemed, to be diverted.

"If I lay in bed about to be amputated" he went on "I wouldn't expect you to laugh of course my dear and naturally Mary couldn't, but I'd lose a certain amount of resistance if I thought our acquaintances weren't roaring their beastly heads off! I'd even forgive you a grin or two" he said smiling at her.

"That's better" she said and grinned back. "You mustn't ever be serious, I can't help but laugh over the solemn way you announce these things."

"Yet you didn't break out into howls when I told about Penelope."

"That's different I mean they make wonderful artificial feet these days." He laughed. "No" she said "I'm serious.

Why it might even get him out of the next war! No, with Penelope, there if you like you did something the young could never bring themselves to do."

"Don't be absurd Liz" he said equably. "You know you would tomorrow, with any little boy dressed up in a top hat and spats for a fancy dress party, in fun of course."

"But not with a girl. I'll bet Jane's Philip wouldn't Think of having a son of twenty and a girl of six!"

"That's nothing, you're to have more than that."

"Oh I'm too old" she muttered. "No one will marry me now."

"Please Liz don't" he protested. "In your heart of hearts you know you will."

"But I'm over twenty-nine, John."

"Well when you're fifty you can still have a boy of nineteen with a girl of six months."

"You are sweet!" She smiled again.

"Then you do think I played Penelope a dirty trick?"

"She's a girl of course" Miss Jennings answered. "She really believed you married her so you see she thinks- how do I know what!"

"I still don't see it Liz."

"Oh I can't tell, I expect she may just be overexcited.

Why don't you ask your Mary?"

"I daren't. She disapproves so."

"Why d'you say that about her? Oh bother children anyway! Except she isn't a child any more of course.

Eighteen if she's a day. It always makes me feel old as the hills when I realize. The time I first knew you she can't have been more than twelve."

"And you look younger than she does every moment." he said smiling into Miss Jennings' eyes.

"Stop it John." She smiled back. "Mary's a very nice girl, just don't forget, and she's going to have all the young men at her heels in droves."

"Yes that's as may be. Certainly she'll have to find someone who can look after her, I shan't be able to manage much about setting up house for her husband. Who could these days? But she does disapprove. They all do."

"I expect they can't help themselves."

"Yes and why, that's what no one will tell me, Liz, when I ask?"

"Perhaps they want to be different from their parents."

"Poor Julia didn't laugh either" he said.

"Well if your wife never did then I suppose Mary doesn't laugh especially so as to be different to you."

"That's rather hard Liz, surely?"

"But you must have been the same with your father or mother once you'd grown up. I know I'd have done anything to be different from both mine."

"Ah children are a mystery! Just wait until you have yours."

"Haven't I already told you? It's too late, I'm too old" she wailed in a bright voice.

He reached across and laid his hand over hers on top of the white tablecloth. Her nails were scarlet. He stroked the bare ring finger.

"Oh I know it's all finished between us where you're concerned but it isn't for me" she said quite cheerfully.

"Good heavens what nonsense yon can talk" he replied in tones as dear as the skin of their two hands and the gold scrolls on the coffee cups. Looking up at her rather frightened nose he saw a reflection, from an empty wine glass and dispatched by the sun in the park, quiver beside her nostril.

"You're adorable" he said.

"If you only knew how I wish I were" she answered smiling.

"Oh look" he cried. " Dick Abbot's having one of his upsets with a waiter."

"Poor Jane, poor Jane" she replied, in a voice she might have used to speak of Christian martyrs, and did not take her eyes from Mr Pomfret's face.

He watched Mrs Weatherby glance about with unconcern, with the especially humble half-smile she used when in the same room as with what must have seemed, to her, inferior strangers, while the waiter stood relaxed beneath Abbot's purpling face. Pascal next came over in controlled haste. He stood beside this waiter, bent a little forward, eyes averted while Abbot's mouth worked and the words came tumbling out too far off for John to catch. Then Mr Pomfret stiffened and even Liz turned her head to see.

Abbot was half out of the chair, was pointing a palsied finger at his Adam's apple, held it there. Jane could hardly ignore this climax and hid a hand as if for reassurance on Pascal's forearm. At last Mr Abbot made gestures with slack wrists as though to brush off flies. Jane smiled again.

Pascal bent forward in a torrent of humility, then chased the waiter off.

Mr Pomfret turned back to his girl friend.

"Poor old Dick! Whenever he gets upset it reminds him of that time at the club when he got stuck with a fishbone. He turned black and-"

"Now that's quite enough John." Miss Jennings stopped him. "In another minute you'll get me laughing and if Jane sees she'll think we're being rude."

"Well all right then" he replied in what seemed to be great good humour. "Now wait a minute, I've paid haven't I? All right then, let's go back to your great bed."

And they left, an elegant couple that attracted much attention. Her sad face was beaming.

"MY DEAR I'm so sorry" Mrs Weatherby said to her companion. Reaching across she laid a hand over his on the white tablecloth. Her nails were scarlet. She gently scratched the skin by his thumbnail. Gold scrolls over white soup plates sparkled clear in the park's sun without.

"It's nothing, only that damn waiter-" Mr Abbot muttered, his face alarmingly pale.

"All finished now" she assured him.

He gave a great sigh.

"Most awfully sorry" he said at last. "Can't understand what came over me."

"So blessed my dear there's still someone to speak to them these days."

"Terrible thing that half the waiters now don't know what they're serving. But I must apologize Jane. In front of John Pomfret too."

"I shouldn't let that even enter your head" she sweetly protested. Yet when he raised his doglike eyes to hers she was looking over to where John and Liz had been.

"See much of him these days?"

"Of poor John?" Her eyes came back on him. To an extraordinary degree they were kind and guileless. "Why goodness gracious me no! Not from one year's end to another,"

"Can't imagine what people find in the chap."

"Oh but he has thousands of friends." She was looking round the restaurant again with her lovely apologetic smile. "Thousands!"

"Little Penelope care for the fellow?"

"Why yes how funny you should say it, now I come to think, Richard, he did come to tea only the other day, tea with her of course. He's simply sweet with darling Penelope."

"Only asked because children know you know."

She brought her eyes back once more to smile full in his great handsome face. She did not say a word.

"Because they size a man up. Instinct or something.

Always prefer a child's opinion to me own."

She gave a light airy little laugh.

"And now" he went on, raising his voice "now this damn waiter" he said and twisted right round in the chair "it's got so we'll never be served! Good God I can't apologize enough. Hardly ever see you except luncheon Sundays, then this sort of thing must crop up."

Pascal hastened over.

"Have you all gone home then man?" Mr Abbot demanded.

"Oh sir, Mrs Weatherby madam, in two minutes, yessir please" and Pascal went in pursuit of the headwaiter.

"My dear." Mrs Weatherby smiled. "Heavens how I love this place! Why I could sit where I am this moment the whole day long."

"Decent of you" he said.

"Have you heard about Arthur Morris?" she inquired. When he shook his head she passed on what John had told.

"Good Lord" he pronounced, entirely grave. "It's serious all right then. Can't tell where these things'll stop" he added. "No telling at all! Well Jane, that's bad news you bring there."

"Isn't it dreadful" she gravely replied. "I'll have to try and see him at the clinic."

"Jolly decent if you would. To cheer the poor unfortunate fellow."

"You are sweet to be so sad" she said.

"Then John Pomfret laughed of course?"

"Well darling to tell the utter truth I couldn't help myself even. Oh I was most to blame."

"If you did, I maintain it was out of common or garden politeness, there you are. Never will understand a man like that though. Good war record, plumb through the desert, all the way up Italy, must have had umpteen fellows killed right beside him. Did he laugh then out there-eh?"

Mrs Weatherby began to heave without a sound.

"Me being ridiculous again dear?" he asked, at his most humble.

"Only just a very little bit darling Richard. Oh I'm hopeless I know I am" she said and dabbed at her brilliant eyes with a handkerchief. "You'll have to forgive it, that's all."

He watched her. His look was adoring.

"Bless you" he said.

"You are so sweet" she answered then composed herself.

Pascal and the headwaiter hurried over with a trolley crowned by a dome of chromium which between them they removed with a conjuror's flourish to disclose the roast. Abbot watched this closely, leaned forward to touch the plate on which they were to serve Jane's portion perhaps to make sure that it was hot, and in general was threatening although at first he said very little. Mrs Weatherby, the appreciative audience, greeted this almost magical presentation with small delighted, cries, praised everything but told Gaspard to take away the potatoes that he had laid, one by one, around her portion in the loving way a jeweller will lay out great garnets beside the design to which he is to work, before the setting is begun. Pascal conjured these off in what seemed to be despair.

"Sure everything's all right?" Mr Abbot demanded and put out a hand to detain Pascal in case the man had it in mind to flee.

"Simply delicious thank you. Dear Richard do start on yours. Why this is divine, simply melts in one's mouth!"

"Fetch Mrs Weatherby a sharp knife Gaspard, now then" he ordered. "She can't use what she's got, man! Here give me!" He reached out a hand to Jane.

"No Richard no, you shan't. The veal's too perfect."

The trolley was withdrawn, Pascal's act over. They ate in silence for a while, appeared to be in contemplation.

"Richard" she said at last, having dabbed at her red mouth with a napkin "I'm worried to death about my Philip!"

"What's the lad up to now?"

"Oh my dear he so needs a father's influence. The dread time has come I'm afraid! I'm fussed, dear Richard."

"If I'm to help I must know more you know."

"I almost can't find the way to tell you, it's all so confusing butt there's Philip's whole attitude to women."

"Playing fast and loose?"

"Oh no I rather wish he would though I fear he is far too much of a snob for that, no no, worse, it's the other, oh dear if I go on like this I never shall explain, oh but Richard what has one done to deserve things? Sometimes I almost wonder if he knows the facts of life even. You see he respects girls so!"

Mrs Weatherby made her great eyes very round and large to give Dick Abbot an adorable long glance of woe.

"Good God" he replied with caution.

"It's not often I wish his father were alive again. You remember how Jim treated me, you're my living witness darling, but oh my dear I have moments sometimes when I'm not sure what to think."

"You mean he's a-?" Mr Abbot demanded lowering.

She broke into a sweet peal of laughter. "Oh Richard I do love you now and then" she cried.

"Wish you could more often" he said, rather glum.

"I'm sorry my dear, there you are. But it's a man about the house he needs I'm almost certain, an older one."

"No shortage you could marry, Jane" he gruffly said. "Why there's half a dozen or more would jump at the chance."

"I couldn't dear. I'd simply never dare!"

"Why on earth not?"

"Because of darling little Penelope!!"

"But good heavens-"

"So jealous" she explained "such a saint I really believe she would be ill!" Her expression was of admiring love and pride.

"Are you serious?" he asked.

"You don't know what these things can be" she answered. "I'm everything to Pen, everything. She often says 'Mummy I'd simply rather die!' Of course they copy the words out of one's very mouth but I'd never dare."

"Well then what is wrong with Philip?"

"He just treats girls as if they weren't real."

"How d'you want him to behave? Chuck 'em about?"

"Oh but he must learn to treat women as human beings."

"Maybe he does behind your back Jane."

She gaily laughed. "My dear I'm almost certain not" she said. "No he's so finicky with theme."

"You marry again" he insisted.

"But I've got used to being alone!"

"I can believe that" he agreed. "Besides you wouldn't necessarily be doing it for yourself would you? And after all my dear we can't pay too much attention to the sixyear-olds. Pen will snap out of it."

"And one thing that won't snap them out of things, as you call it, is for their poor deluded mothers to remarry."

"So you'll sacrifice Philip to little Penelope, is that the idea?"

"Richard dear one, how simply diabolically clever you can be sometimes! Oh Lord my horrid problems. But I do apologize, all this must be infinitely dull for you, and just when I'm so enjoying your delicious luncheon."

"Know what I think? I believe these things settle themselves."

"Oh but how?"

"Before you realize where you are you'll be in the Registry Office one of these days" he asserted. "And after not having asked the children's leave either."

"Do you really think I could fall in love once more?" she asked.

"I know you can" he said in a satisfied voice. She made a face.

"Richard" she grumbled and gave a scared laugh. "Behave yourself, we were talking of marriage, not anything else, not anything!"

"Like me to have a word with him then, Jane?"

"My dear isn't that too sweet, I do appreciate it, still I very much fear he might not actually listen. Oh I realize how rude this sounds. But he's not normal! No I don't mean that. I mean more he's so old-fashioned! Can you believe it, he even gets up to open the door for me!! Because if someone is not in the family then he never seems able to listens."

"If according to you he'll only pay attention to a stepfather he'll have to wait a bit then, won't he?"

"I don't know what to do. I'm at my wits' end" she said.

"Thought you maintained you'd never remarry."

"Why Richard I never uttered a word of the kind!"

"Only man you'll get hitched onto in the end then is your faithful servant" he said with a sort of forced joviality.

"Richard dear you're quite wonderful! You can't imagine what a solid comfort you are always." She gave him an exquisitely lingering tong smile.

"You wait and see" he insisted.

"I'll wait" she promised gaily laughing.

He frowned.

"Wish I could count on that" he remarked.

"My dear I do apologize" she said at once. "How abominably rude that was! But I told you I could never marry again because of little Pen. And I don't think you are being quite kind" she added with a grave reproachful look. "Richard I really believe you're almost making fun which doesn't suit you dear. Your sense of humour is not your long suit."

"I say, I'm truly sorry Jane. Fact is everyone's having trouble with their children these days. Only last week John Pomfret buttonholed me in the Club about his Mary."

"I'm miserable I'm such a bore Richards" She gave him an adorable smile of humility in which there was mischief. For a moment she looked very like her daughter.

"You aren't, good Lord no" he protested.

"But I am! Anyway I think Mary's such a vulgar child."

"Flattered to find you can bring yourself to confide in me on occasions" he said at his most formal. "Never could make up my mind about her yet" he said apparently of Mary Pomfret. "Striking girl though. Why, does Philip see much of her then?"

"My Philip? Certainly not. What's John's trouble over the girl?"

"A bluestocking, I fancy. Too taken up with her job. Unfeminine. Properly upset about her old John seemed."

"But how extraordinary Richard! Why that's just how I worry about Philip. So unmanly and serious for his years. What else did John say?"

"Well you know, one thing or the other."

"My dear what I do so like about you is your absolute loyalty. Of course if you'd rather not-"

"Tell you the truth I've pretty well forgotten now."

"In at one ear and out of the other like when I confide in you over Philip, is that it?"

"Now Jane, you know me."

"And that's just what I respect you for! It's so perfect to be sure what one pours out won't be all over London the next minute."

"Oh well" he said and seemed flattered. "But you say Philip and Mary never meet. Don't they work along the corridor in the same office?"

"Of course they do my dear. I thought everyone knew."

"Well then, ask Mary what she thinks."

"But it's, just because they talk every day that they don't see anything of each other. Would you take someone out at night when you sat opposite her six hours every twenty-four? Really Richard, what the world has come to! Besides he's too much of a snob as I said. And thank God for it where that girl's concerned!"

"Don't care for Mary then?"

"I don't see why one should be friends with one's old friends' children do you? Any more than we as children made a fuss of the horrid creatures our parents' friends brought us to play in the nursery. Of course I don't know the way Philip passes his spare time but I've a very good idea he doesn't spend that with Mary! I should hope not indeed." Mrs Weatherby began to look indignant.

"What's the gal done then, Jane?"

"Nothing so far as I know, nothing at all. I couldn't care less. But just because John is one of my oldest friends I don't see why I should like his daughter even if as you remember perfectly well at one time I loved her mother oh so dearly!"

There was a pause.

"Wish I knew something to suggest about Philip" he said at last.

"Let's not talk about the children any more" she said, relaxing. "Did you notice Liz and John had gone? How is that dread sad old affair of theirs, have you any idea?"

"Can't imagine, Jane. Don't know at all."

"I believe he's simply sick of her and she dings on in the most disgustingly squalid way." She laughed gaily again. "I can't imagine where Liz finds the strength. She's so ill!" She beamed on him. "Oh dear aren't I being illnatured all of a sudden! You don't think I'm very wicked do you?" She leaned forward, laid her hand by his. "I tell you what" she said. "We don't want to wait for coffee here. Richard, let's have it at your place darling."

His face showed eager surprise.

"I say, jolly decent of you, why not indeed! Let's go now" he said and in a few minutes they left. His great face was beaming.

PHILIP WEATHERBY and Mary Pomfret were sitting in the downstairs lounge of a respectable public house off Kightsbridge.

"Will your parent ever ask a relative to the house?" he sternly inquired.

"Why no Philip, I don't suppose he does."

"Nor my mother won't and it's inconceivable."

"I think Daddy may sometimes."

"You'd imagine my mother was ashamed of me. You see the position? I can't ring up and say 'This is your little nephew here and can I run round for tea?'"

"Poor Philip you must come to us after the office one day though you'll find us rather dull for you I'm afraid."

"I'd like it very much and it wouldn't be dull."

"I'll tell Daddy then."

"Have another light ale Mary?"

"Yes but this one's my turn."

"Is it? Oh all right." He took the money she had ready for him and went over to the bar while she got out a mirror and went over her face. In the way of the very young she did not look round the saloon.

When he came back with their drinks he said "D'you think our parents see much of each other still?"

"Now Philip why should they?"

"Didn't you know? They had a terrific affair once."

"But my dear how absolutely thrilling! I don't believe you."

"True as I'm here Mary. Arthur Morris told me."

"How sweet, did they really?"

"I don't think it's sweet in the least."

"I know but they had their lives to live after all. I mean their time is practically over now yon see, so why shouldn't they when they chose?"

"I'm embarrassed by them, that's why."

"Oh Philip now are you being fair? What difference does that make?"

"We could be brother and sister for one thing."

"Only half-brother, I don't mind do you?"

"Why should I?" Nevertheless he seemed quite awkward and when she looked at him out of the corner of an eye both hers creased in the tiniest amusement. "Only it's absurd that we shouldn't know" he added.

"What makes you think we might be?" she asked. He did not give a direct answer.

"D'you believe there's some special feeling between brother and sister?" he demanded.

"How about you and Penelope?"

"Oh she's too young."

"I don't suppose there can be unless they live together-have been brought up in the same house" she corrected herself.

"You don't believe in blood?" he asked.

"Consanguinity, is there such a word?" she answered. "No more than three types surely? Daddy wore his stamped over a card he hung round his neck during the war on a ribbon he got from me. I thought that marvellous then."

"I meant heredity" he said in a severe voice.

"Oh it's all a question of environment now" she objected. "I was taught the whole question of heredity had been exploded ages back."

"All the same I'd still like to see my relatives" he complained.

"Why don't you ask your mother then?"

"She'd think it pansy. Almost told me as much once or twice."

"But you aren't, Philip, no one could pretend you were."

"One never knows" he darkly answered.

"Look at you with that Bethesda Nathan at the office."

"I say, good Lord, what gossips you all are. Who says anything about Bethesda and me?" Obviously he was delighted.

"Of course we all do. Someone as attractive as you" she said smiling gently full in his face.

"You're making fun" he complained.

"No Philip don't be absurd. Naturally we gossip."

"You're laughing at me just like my mother."

"Now that's not nice and she hoots at everyone after all."

"Does she? I'd never noticed."

"Every minute. It's her line" she comforted him.

"Anyway there's nothing between Bethesda and me."

"Perhaps not. What all of us are interested in is whether there may be."

"Bethesda and I discuss this entire question of relatires" he told Mary, "She sees her own the whole time. In fact she's fed up with them."

"Jews have tremendous family feeling, Philip."

"And why shouldn't they?"

"I say, you are touchy! Penelope better grow up quick and take some of these awkward corners off you."

"Sorry" he said. "I'm being a bore."

"No you aren't at that" she objected. "We're having a cosy little argument that's all."

Yet what she said seemed to silence him. He turned his head away and looked round the room. She stretched her fingers out and tilted them upwards against their table, examined the short nails which were enamelled but not painted.

When his eyes came upon a man with two sticks he said, "Have yon heard about Arthur Morris?"

She immediately put those hands away on her lap and smiled upon Philip.

"Who?" she asked, all charm.

"You know that great friend of both our parents."

"Oh" she said and seemed to lose interest.

"He's having his toe off."

"Whyever for?"

Both began to giggle.

"Why does a man have a toe off?" he demanded.

"How should I know?"

"Because it's diseased, stupid."

"Poor man" she said no longer smiling and in an uninterested voice.

"My mother went to see him the other day" he told her.

"Well and why not? You don't make out there's something between them on top of her and Daddy?"

"I'm not sure."

"See here Philip, your mother's splendid. Oh I understand she may have a slightly unmarvellous nature at least where you are concerned, but she looks wonderful!"

"What difference does that make?"

"All the difference. She gets so many more offers."

"But at her age it's disgusting."

"I never said she accepted them Philip. There are so many must want to take your mother out."

"Who could?"

"Don't be filthy. Much better her than I should be mauled by one of the men her age!"

"You don't mean to say that antediluvian Arthur Morris-"

"Of course not" she sharply protested. "If you go on to others like this you'll be getting me a reputation."

"I never-"

"Okay" she said. "Forget it." She smiled. "But suppose you had to have a leg off wouldn't you wish for visitors?"

"Well of course."

"All right, then don't make out they kiss on top of the cradle they'll have put over his stump."

"Oh if it was just kissing" he said in a contemptuous voice.

"How should I know when or where they do the other?" she remarked petulantly. "I don't mind. If it's Daddy now and some woman, good luck to him I say."

"Yes but your father's a man" he protested.

"I should hope so indeed" she replied at which both began to giggle again.

"You're hopeless" he said.

"I haven't as much the matter with me as you appear to" she objected, serious once more. "Honestly you seem potty about your mother."

"I wonder if it's why the relatives won't come."

"No Philip really. You know what their whole generation is."

"How d'you mean?"

"Well they wouldn't let a little thing like that, I mean of going to bed, what we've just been discussing, make the slightest bit of difference would they?"

"I don't believe it is a little thing."

"No more do I."

"That's where the whole difference" he said "lies between our generations. Their whole lot is absolutely unbridled."

"Yes Philip, but they are the generation you've just said you want to meet, aren't they?" Both laughed gaily at this remark.

"Damned if I can make 'em out at all" he said. "You know your father is crazy. Did you hear what he did with little Penelope the other day? When our Italian maid sent her in dressed as a bride for fun, he actually married Pen."

"Married her!"

"Pretended to of course!" he explained. "Don't you think it most odd?"

"But Philip what on earth are you saying?"

"Went down on his knees in front of Mamma and from all I can make out ran through some bogus form of church service with the poor old thing. It knocked Penelope cold. She screamed the house down three days. Still, she's forgetting now at last."

Miss Pomfret did not seem impressed. "If your mother let him, then I'd say she was insane" she commented.

"Oh I don't know" he said. "But I do agree that generation's absolutely crazy."

"So are little girls, believe you me."

"And grown ones?" he inquired.

"Now to whom d'you refer may I ask?" she cried delighted.

"Like when you went up to Derek Wolfram at the party and announced it was time for bed?"

She blushed.

"No but which beast told you?" she demanded.

"Oh that's all over the office" he announced, at which she began to giggle, he joined in and presently they left, each going their several ways with broad smiles, well content it seemed.

A FORTNIGHT or so later Mrs Weatherby was with her son Philip in the sitting room of their flat.

"Dear boy" she was saying "I'm really worried about sweet Pen this time!"

"How's that Mamma?"

"She's such a little saint."

"She always was."

"Always!" his mother fervently agreed. "But I fancy if she doesn't soon what Richard calls snap out of it then we shall just have to take her to a psychologist."

"Mr Abbot? Where does he come into things?"

"My dear" she replied. "You must not mind your mother putting her problems to old friends."

"Okay Mamma. But you're about to take matters rather a long way forward surely?"

"Pen doesn't seem to get over it. Oh Philip I'm so distressed. She's just wrapped the whole thing up in her sweet mind."

"What with? You see, I don't understand."

"I never told you. I don't think one should tell one child the other's secrets. Philip, I'd say it must be four weeks ago now. Oh dear doesn't time fly. John Pomfret mistakenly came to tea and Isabella so stupid of her as things turned out dressed my precious Penelope up as a real bride. Then before I could stop him he was down on his knees marrying her with the actual words out of our church service."

"Which you said over them?"

"My dear wasn't it wicked of him" she went on, ignoring her son. "And now she's desperate, yes desperate! I am so worried. I think I shall have to take her along, don't you darling?"

"But psychologists are supposed to dredge back into the past aren't they, and sister's only six?"

"Isn't that just what she needs, Philip?"

"My point is it's only the other day."

"Yet things have already gone so very deep" she wailed. "All so hopeless! Though she doesn't say a word. She's been a little brick. I can tell though. Darling she's at breaking point."

"How do you know Mamma?"

"How do I know? How could I tell with you when you were small?"

"You mean Penelope's really ill?"

"Sick in her mind poor little soul, perhaps even dangerously so. Oh Philip!"

"But look here Mamma."

"No my dear I mean it, I've never been more serious in my life. And thank God your father isn't all over us to complicate matters."

"Well I don't see why we have to blackguard Father because we're worried about Pen."

"Don't you? I do. But I'm afraid Philip! I've got to act, rid her of this somehow."

"You put it down to the what d'you call it, the pretence?"

"I know I'm right!"

"And for that you're going to take her to a trick cyclist, Mamma?"

"Don't Mamma me or use that precious slang of yours." As she said this she sweetly smiled upon him.

"Likely enough the man'll only lead her back to when she used to wet her bed," he protested.

"Philip I never thought I should have to complain of schoolboy smut in you again" she announcedd. "I'm surprised. It really doesn't suit you. And over your own sister please. Philip it's nasty!"

"What is?"

"The way she is taking on, the little martyr. Oh I see what there must be there deep down."

"How d'you mean?"

"Mind your own business" she replied darkly. "Pen's really suffering, the sweet."

"Why, after all?"

"She feels wounded. Wouldn't anyone? Oh wasn't all of it gross of him poor well-meaning John, sweet idiot of a man. For I blame myself. Oh yes I can't forget. I've had to give her sleeping draughts every night since that fated afternoon."

"Now you haven't-"

"Well no of course, not actually although she is just in the state I get in when I have to take them."

"I should show her to Dr Bogle."

"Dr Bogle?" she cried. "The man we go to for pills!"

"What's the use of these specialists Mamma?"

"For especial emergencies Philip. Which little girl has ever before been married at six? Tell me out of the whole history of the world!"

"Yes indeed."

"I can't understand where you get your false insensitive side my dear. She wed poor John in her own mind as sure as if she was actually in church and your father had come back from the grave to give her away, the precious! There you are. And what can you answer to that?"

"You mustn't worry" he protested.

"Then my dear she made such a picture" his mother proceeded. "In her long white veil! Somewhere she'd found a lily she was carrying, I can't imagine how unless there were some among the flowers Dick sent me. The shade of that tall lamp was askew so she stood in a shaft of light as utterly sweet as if she had been in the aisle with the sun shining through your father's memorial rose window Philip! So absurd of me my dear but the tears came to my eyes and I really couldn't see. That was the true reason why I couldn't stop it all until too late!"

"She'll recover."

"But the responsibility dear heart. You know what one comes across with those awful books of Freud's I haven't read thank God."

"They're completely out of date nowadays."

"They are? You're sure? Yet there must be something in them when he's so famous."

"He wrote about sex Mamma."

"Well isn't this sex good heavens? Sex still has some thing to do with marriage even nowadays hasn't it? Rising seven and to have an experience like that, I can't ever forgive myself!"

"Why not run her down to Brighton?"

Mrs Weatherby began to glow at this suggestion.

"D'you know I think I really might" she said at last. "What a brilliant idea of yours Philip, just when the weather has been so perfectly vile. Let's see, we could go tomorrow. Oh no I am meeting John. Then Sunday I was to lunch with Dick but I could put him off, that won't hurt Richard. But how will you get along dear?"

"Oh I shall be all right."

"Why not ask some girl in and have Isabella cook you one of her delicious Italian things."

"I'll see."

"I would if I were you." Mrs Weatherby had become her old self once more. She shone on Philip the whole light of her delighted attention. "With Chianti. Only it must be white remember. And not Bethesda please!"

When he frowned she laughed.

"Darling you mustn't mind my little teases. Don't bother. I know I'll never be told who. But one thing I am sure of. She'll be a very lucky girl."

He awkwardly smiled.

"No you must really have pity on the poor fainting souls Philip! Just imagine them sitting by their telephones bored to tears with their sad mothers who're themselves probably only dying to have an old flame in, waiting waiting to be asked, eating their lovely hearts out!"

She leaned forward as though she were about to hug him.

"I might" he said.

"In a little sweat of excitement in their frocks!!" she said turning swiftly away the beautiful innocent eyes soft with what seemed to be love, her great mouth trembling.

His face showed acute embarrassment. She may have sensed this for she changed the subject.

"Do you see much of Mary Pomfret?"

"At the office" he replied.

"I can't understand someone like John having a girl like it."

He did not answer. She again went off at a tangent. "Philip what would you say if I married a second time?"

He jumped up as though he had anticipated this question, walked over to stand at the window with his back to her, a rigid back which she fixed with an apologetic look of ladylike amusement.

"It would be your own affair" he said at last, indistinctly.

"Yes I expect it could be" she replied with a small smile. "But that wasn't quite exactly what I asked. What would you say, Philip?" she repeated.

"Me?" he mumbled. "Why, is there anyone?"

She laughed with great kindliness and then looked at the floor.

"Oh" she murmured "we are so queer together. You know this conversation is the wrong way round, I mean it's me should be asking you if there was someone. No of course there isn't just now for me. But suppose one day there still might? Would you find the idea so very horrid?"

He turned round. He seemed all at once to be a schoolboy. She kept her face straight.

"No, I wouldn't mind" he said.

"I'd've imagined you would have liked that, Philip" she went on. "Surrounded with nothing but women the whole day long, even at the office from all I can make out."

"Honest" he said "don't bother about me. I'm okay. It wouldn't make a bit of difference." He smiled.

"These things do happen" she murmured reproachfully.

"Not putting up the banns then?"

"Don't be silly dear!"

"Who's it to be, Mamma?"

"No but really I shall be quite cross with you in a minute. There's no one. But your mother's not so long in the tooth yet that mightn't come about. Philip wouldn't you a little bit like to have a stepfather?"

"I don't think you'd marry again just to give me one."

"My dear how sharp yon are sometimes." She laughed. "You got me there all right or did you? Not that I don't think of you and you of me, you are simply sweet to me always, bless your heart."

"Well let me know when and I'll put the wedding march on the record, changer. I say look at the time. I must be off."

"Good heavens yes" she cried "and I've stockings and shoes to get for our little nervous case, the martyr."

At this she went up to Philip, kissed him with fervour and they both left.

AT THE same time on the identical day Mary Pomfret sat with her father in their living room.

"What would you say if your devoted parent married a second time?" he asked.

"Oh Daddy how thrilling for you. Who?"

"I don't know wonderful, I was only wondering."

"Are you sure?"

"You seem very certain someone would agree."

"Of course!"

"And you wouldn't mind?"

"But is it Miss Jennings?"

"Now wait a minute Mary. I wasn't even making up my mind to ask anyone. Mine is just an idle question."

"Well are you very discontented as you are then, Daddy?"

"What do you mean by that?"

"I can't see, why any man ever marries his girl" she said. He laughed.

"You're dead right" he answered. "It often comes as a great surprise."

"Not to the man; he has to ask."

"To both" he insisted.

She considered this. Then she said "Why did you want to know whether I minded?"

"Surely nothing could be more natural dear? Of course I'd have to know first."

"Don't I still look after you and the fiat all right then?"

"But you are perfect, absolutely perfect."

"I thought perhaps you might wish for a change." Her face expressed embarrassment. He yawned.

"My dear" he said gently "one doesn't remarry to get a change of housekeeping. Not yet at all events."

"That's what will happen when that happens in case you don't realize."

"Oh Mary no. Not at my age!"

"But of course I'd have to go" she said in a distressed tone of voice. "I couldn't stay to witness you and your bride."

"My dear" he objected "it would not be so romantic and after all there's room in plenty in the flat for three people."

Her blue eyes filled with tears and she was so young.

"Liz wouldn't like it" she insisted.

"Now Mary" he said and seemed alarmed "I told you there was no one. I just thought I'd ask to get your reactions. Good Lord you'll be going off one day and wouldn't expect me to stay on here alone."

"I don't see why not. I mean you can invite in anyone you want can't you?"

"I could be lonely" he explained with what appeared to be a false voice as he selected a cigarette.

"I'm always here now" she said.

"But you ought to go out more Mary."

"How shall I when nobody asks me?"

"They will. I say, let's give an entertainment. Why not? Lots of young men for you and hang the expense!"

"Oh I don't want anyone."

"Nonsense, that's because you don't know them. You, leave it to me darling."

"No honestly, you have your own friends in if you're dull."

"Who says I'm dull?"

"Well you've just explained that you'll remarry, haven't you Daddy?"

"But good Lord one doesn't go through all that again simply because one's dull."

"Don't you?"

"No" he said, reached up a hand to where she stood by his chair and pulled her down to kiss an ear. She sat on the arm.

"Anyway I never shall" she laughed.

"You will" he said. They lapsed into easy silence.

"It's dark. Wouldn't you like me to put the light on?" she asked.

"No. Let's save money for our party. This fiendish rain!" he commented.

"You must miss your mother?" he said at last.

He asked the question once a year and each time got different answer. On this occasion she replied "I don't know. I can't remember her."

"It must be very dull for you here alone with me."

She ignored this. "Who was her best woman friend?" she murmured.

"Jane."

"Mrs Weatherby?" she exclaimed in great surprise. "You never told."

"Oh they were always together" he assured his daughter. He laughed. "Never out of each other's pockets at one time."

"I had no idea, not in the least. Well that does make a bit of difference!"

"How d'you mean darling?"

"I'll look at her quite differently" Miss Pomfret said in an altered voice.

"She's very nice" her father assured her.

"You aren't thinking of marrying Mrs Weatherby then, Daddy?"

"Now listen, I told you didn't I? There's not a soul, there really is no one. I'm sorry I spoke. It was just a stupid thing one says glibly, then regrets."

"But marriage might be right for you."

"There isn't time" he wailed in his affected voice. He twisted round to smile on her face. "All this work! We none of us have the leisure to wed! It's too frightful!"

"Oh by the way, talking of her" she mumbled "I told Philip to come round to tea."

"Not Saturday!"

She frowned. "No, no" she said. "But he seems rather blue at home."

Mr Pomfret opened wide eyes. He had a question wandering round his mouth. But he shut his lips. Then he asked with indifference "How's little Pen?"

"Oh she's all right. She's just spoiled" the daughter said. "Why did you never tell me about Mrs Weatherby, Daddy?"

"What about her?"

"That she was Mummy's best friend."

"Oh I must have often." He yawned.

"No. Never before. And I wonder why?"

"Well I don't say often enough what a wonder you are do I? I suppose the obvious soon gets forgotten. I forgot you didn't know and in case I forget again I'll say this once more, you're wonderful, love, and no man could have a nicer daughter." He yawned again.

It was too dark to see the expression on her face.

"Don't get all woolly, stupid" was what she replied. There was a pause.

"How's the job going?" he drowsily inquired.

"Oh much the same."

"Still scissors and paste?"

"Some of the girls have gone out and bought their own to cut with" she answered. "The ones they issue now are quite hopeless. Yes we snip bits out of the newspapers, stick them on folio sheets, and it's still all cabled out to Japan where the press people hardly use any of what we send. It'll go on like that forever."

"See much of Philip?" His voice came even lower. She looked down but could make out no more than the dark top of his head. She glanced up at the framed reproductions and in this light they were no more than blurs in frames.

"See him?" she murmured.

"What's that? he mumbled.

"He's in C Department" she softly answered, beginning to space out the words, stroking his hair so the tips of her fingers barely touched his head. "In C Department" she repeated even softer, as if to sing them both to sleep. "But yes I see him. Sometimes" she whispered. "Sometimes but not often." A small silence fell. "Not often" she went on at last so low she could hardly be heard. Her father began to snore. "But I do sometimes" she ended almost under her breath, got up and left him slumbering.

THE next day was Sunday. John Pomfret sat over luncheon at the usual table looking out on the park, with Miss Jennings.

"So I asked her right out" he was saying in his pleasantly affected party manner. "I said 'Would it matter to you if I married again?'"

Miss Jennings appeared to listen with care.

"Oh Liz" he cried and spread his arms out over two dirty plates on which were soiled knives and forks, two glasses of red wine, and a bottle in its gay straw jacket, "she made a picture, you know she's a remarkable girl. Mary stood there like an angel, just a Botticelli angel framed in my lovely Matisse over the fireplace, those lozenges of colour perfect as a background for that pretty head. When I think how she's carried on for years without a woman to talk with i feel ashamed and proud, Liz!"

"What did Mary say then?"

A faint shade of embarrassment seemed to come over his handsome features.

"Not much" he replied.

"How d'you mean?" she anxiously asked.

"No man could be luckier in a daughter" he said. "Not one moment of worry, nary one. Of course if Jane hadn't quarrelled with Julia before she died I might easily have called on Jane for help. I know I thought of it. But Liz, it seemed disloyal to my wife, she would have turned in her poor grave. So I struggle on alone."

He paused. Miss Jennings appeared incapable of speech. He was gazing through the great window on what looked to be a white sheet of water from which a few black trees in bud leaned against driving rain.

"And it's come out quite perfect" he proceeded. Miss Jennings blinked. "I can't say too much in praise of my girl. So I'm going to give a party!"

"A party?" she exclaimed.

"Well she doesn't meet enough people" Mr Pomfret announced. "How could the child when she looks after me at night and works all day? I'm not much use to her Liz" he said. "My wretched job keeps me pretty well occupied! But Mary never gets a minute off."

"That makes two in that case."

"How d'you mean?" he inquired.

"There's Jane going to give a twenty-firster for Philip and now you'll have yours."

"I never heard about Philip's" he protested. "As a matter of fact I was to have had drinks yesterday at Jane's but she went off to Brighton with Penelope and Dick Abbot. Jane would have told me then only she never got the chance. Who's she having?"

"Oh all of us I believe, John."

"And some young people too I should hope" he said.

"So dreadful dull with nothing but us older people."

"Speak for yourself" she protested rather dryly.

"I was" he assured her. "In that case I think I shall wait until I see how Jane's comes off. I really can't afford a party, who can these days! Yes I'd rather wait and see. Of course Mary and I will be invited."

"Did you think of giving a dance-with champagne?"

"My dear girl where's the money to spring from? And you can't make out it's expected nowadays?"

"People do. Several get together still" she explained.

"No that wouldn't go at all" he decided. "Only yesterday bless her I asked if there were even anyone Mary specially wanted and she wouldn't have it. No let's see what sort and kind of a show Jane puts on first."

"And how's little Penelope?" she inquired."

"My dear Liz damn all that silly nonsense is what I insist. The child's just living till she can pick on something new to upset her, you mark my words."

"I'd've thought it made everything so difficult with Jane."

"Old Jane's all right" he said, "But my God you're lucky not to have children of your own yet Liz."

"I wouldn't mind" she muttered.

"Well I must say, that's a weight off me now I haven't to give a do for Mary right off" he announced, visibly taking heart. "Yes you're lucky all right. Lord the things that keep coming up! No rest at all. Though I've not got anything against the child, please understand."

"Mary's sweet" she agreed in a perplexed voice.

He thought of something else.

"How did you come to hear of Jane's party?" he demanded.

"Philip told me."

"I didn't know you ever saw him" Mr Pomfret complained with lazy amazement.

"I had to go round to the office. As a matter of fact my business took me to his boss" she boasted.

"So did you look in on Mary in M?"

"There wasn't time darling and I'm not sure she'd have been overjoyed."

"Good God Liz, what nonsense you can talk. Why Mary'd have loved it! Pity you didn't you know. She's managing marvellously well. No more than a junior in length of service of course but already she's established and doing damned important work too let me tell you. To tell the truth I once knew her chief. I'm always meaning to ring the woman one day to ask. But what holds me back is Mary's face if she got to hear. Oh she's independent, Liz, and won't take any manner or means of help. And I respect her for it."

"Philip was handing round the tea and buns" Miss Jennings informed him. He burst into rueful laughter.

"Well maybe my dear you did best not to explore further than Department C. You might have come on Mary with a mop and bucket between M and N. No, as for her it's not only what she tells me, which is little enough in all conscience, because I have other sources, I know what I'm talking about. But I'm not far wrong when I say Philip's an ungodly failure. What you told me just now doesn't come one bit as a surprise."

"Is that really so? I had no idea" Miss Jennings protested and seemed pleased.

"Don't breathe a word to anyone least of all to Jane" he implored. "He's not quite all she's got, there's still little Penelope practising to become St. Francis, but it would kill poor Jane all the same. Oh now what made me say any of that! Liz I'm growing crabbed and ill-natured in middle age."

"You aren't" she said.

"I jolly well am! Oh yes, worse luck! Never mind. Forget it."

"Good heavens John you remember about nine weeks ago when we were discussing his mother and she promptly came in, well here's Mary with Philip."

He twisted round in the chair.

"They can't afford this" he said into the room in a loud voice. Then he saw. They were standing before Pascal, dose together in an attitude of humility while Gaspard sneered in their faces. It was plain they were not known.

"Excuse me Liz" Mr Pomfret asked over a shoulder. He got up. "Can't have that, you understand" he said and went across. "Hello there" he called. Pascal and Gaspard stepped back as he strode to kiss Mary. She seemed to shrink while Philip put on an embarrassed grin. Mr. Pomfret shook him warmly by the hand. After some more talk which Miss Jennings watched with a tender smile, Pascal, obsequious again, at once led the young couple away to a good table. As they went John said something to his daughter who sent Liz a startled glance.

When he sat down once more John said "Well I only hope he pays."

Miss Jennings replied "Why here she comes."

Mr Pomfret rose to his feet. "Fancy seeing you" Mary greeted Miss Jennings shyly. Her wrist was loose when she took Miss Jennings' hand.

"Oh darling" Liz cried "you look so sweet."

"You both do look wonderful" Mary mumbled. Another phrase or two and she made her escape.

As he sat down again the father said with satisfaction "My girl's got manners. I rather pride myself on that as a matter of fact."

"She's sweet" Miss Jennings repeated. "You didn't expect to see them here then?"

"Those two? My dear Liz I never interfere. But I certainly imagined she was lunching back home this afternoon. Not that she can't do just as she likes of course. I thought she said something about tea. I must have misheard. And I didn't know they ever met."

There was a pause while he watched his daughter.

"Were you told about Arthur Morris?" she next inquired.

"No? Not more bad news, you can't surely mean? What is it?" he asked turning back to her.

"Now they're having to take the ankle off."

This time neither laughed or even smiled.

"Good Lord" he cried "like so much else it's beginning to be a bad dream. Who's his doctor then? Can't they do anything for him?"

"Poor Arthur isn't it bad luck?" she said.

"Frightful" he agreed. "Now what are you proposing to have now? Cheese or sweet or both? Where is Gaspard? First they don't or won't recognize one's own children and then they can't bother to take an order. Here Pascal!" He waved.

"Only coffee for me darling. I must watch my figure."

"Would you mind if I had a bite of cheese? Look Pascal you won't give my daughter a table and then there's no one to get us on with Miss Jennings' luncheon. She'd simply like some white coffee and I'll have cheese and biscuits."

The man hurried off. "What were we saying?"

"About Arthur."

"Why" he protested "it's the most frightful thing I ever heard in all my life! Poor old fellow. No knowing where these things'll stop either. And the bill too if you don't mind, waiter. I am sorry to hear that" he ended.

"It's when a man must wish he'd married" Miss Jennings said reflectively. "Having a leg off."

"Never forget William Smith" he objected.

" William Smith?" she echoed. "I don't remember."

"Perhaps he was a bit before your time. He got into a motor smash, lost both arms and Myra left him."

"Was he married?"

"But I've just told you! Yes Myra went. And she got her decree on incompatibility of temperaments."

"Perhaps that had been going on a long time John."

"It's very dangerous to lose a limb when you're married" he announced. "Two limbs are almost always fatal. So you watch out."

"Oh I wouldn't think much of a husband who left as soon as I happened to be maimed" she cried.

"The thing is they do. Any port in a storm without even a by your leave!"

"No John that's dreadful!"

He let out a great gay laugh.

"It's the way of the world" he explained. "Anyway, lucky old Arthur isn't married is he?"

"No, but all the same!"

"Forget it I was only joking" he said.

There was a pause while he fondly smiled and she seemed lost in thought.

"Will she ask me?" she inquired at last.

"Who darling?"

"Jane of course."

"What to? I can't tell how you mean?" he objected.

"This party she's to give so you can make up your mind whether you'll have one after."

"Naturally she will."

"Why darling?" she wanted to know.

"She'd better" he announced.

"I don't fancy Jane likes me" Miss Jennings insinuated.

"Ask us without each other?" he protested. "That would be unheard of, dear."

"Have the invitations gone out already John?"

"But most certainly not. Jane doesn't even realize she's giving a party yet, not before she and I have talked it over. And she can't if she won't ask you."

"John you're being very sweet, yet I wonder if Jane really likes me?"

"She loves you" he roared.

"No, that's going too far" she insisted. "You spoil it!"

"You don't understand" he said. "She depends on you. She knows very well I wouldn't come if you weren't there and Jane relies on me."

"And so what do you mean by that, darling?"

"Precisely the little I'm saying. Since her husband died she's never given anything without she had all her old men friends round her, she wouldn't dare."

"You say she'll invite me only because of you."

"That's so."

"Well then it's not very nice is it?"

"Liz darling you're trying to trap me. She adores you."

"Does she? I don't think I'll come then."

"Look darling" he said "with this frightful rain this is not one of those days that we can take our customary Sunday walk." He laughed. "Come Liz" he said "let's get back to bed."

"Aren't you awful! Oh I suppose so, all right" she replied, getting up to go at once, giving him a shy smile.

MISS Pomfret waved to her father as he left with Miss Jennings while Philip made as if to rise from his place.

When he had settled down again he said "Have you heard about this party my mother's to give?"

"Oh Philip, but when? And are you inviting me?"

"Of course."

"How kind! Oh dear how nice." She beamed upon him. "When is it?"

"There'll be weeks of talk yet. While she makes up her mind how not to ask a single one of our relations. No at the moment it's to be for my friends, only she knows quite well I haven't any."

"Surely that's nonsense Philip. What about the men you knew at school?"

"I've lost touch."

"Well it wasn't so long ago after all?"

"They none of them work in London" he said in a severe voice as though to discourage questions. "I don't know where they are now. But she accuses me of behaving as apparently I used to when she came down to my first school."

"You'll have to tell me a little more if I'm to understand" Miss Pomfret gently said.

"She was always in the car" he explained. "When we passed any of the other chaps I used to duck right down just as if" and here he copied his mother's emphatic speech "'just as if they had guns, repeating rifles.'"

"And did you?"

"Of course we every one of us did. You don't spend entire weeks with the creatures only to want to see them when you can get away for an hour or so. Besides there was too much chromium plate on the beastly thing. It was vulgar."

"Oh no Philip."

"Were you at school?"

"As a matter of fact I wasn't."

"And I suppose at a girls' establishment they did anything they could to show off?"

"I expect they did" she meekly replied.

"I used to see the girls out with their parents in hotels Mamma took me to tea" he muttered. "But the point, no, part of the point is that Mamma as she accused me of trying to duck every time we passed anyone, suited her action to the words or whatever the phrase may be and bumped her head down on the sofa she was sitting in to show me how I used to behave and smashed one of her eyebrows against a heavy glass ashtray she'd put beside herself." He laughed.

"Did she hurt her forehead?" Miss Pomfret inquired warily.

"Just a bump" he answered. "Sometimes Mamma is rather wonderful." He was smiling. "She's so violent."

"I think your mother's sweet Philip!"

"Well the fact is, when she hurt herself it set her off and I got the whole thing again, all over. How even at Eton I hadn't any friends, still never saw a soul these days, what was I doing with my life, all that sort of usual trouble. And lastly of course she wanted to know would she have to have all over again the whole of this wretched experience that had made her so miserably unhappy with little Penelope, when Pen grows up."

"Oh but Philip you aren't really making your mother unhappy are you?"

"It's just the way she speaks you understand. Why, are you the joy of your father's life at the moment?"

She laughed. "I really believe I am" she replied. "How is your kid sister anyway?"

"As well as can be expected. For the time being there's nothing on her mind of course. But even at Eton we didn't want to see each other either. It was torture going to the theatre the night before one went back, there were so many. They even sat fight next."

"You mean you simply couldn't bear to see them again now?"

"On no" he protested. "Of course it's quite different now. I just don't want to see any of 'em that's all."

"Well then you needn't."

"The only thing is" he said in a rueful way "I'm supposed to have this party for my twenty-firster."

"But Philip" she cried "in that case you can't not invite your friends."

"You know what it is with Mamma. The ones she does eventually ask will all come out of her set inevitably in the end. They won't be contemporaries of mine."

"I could rake up a few girls" she volunteered.

"I don't mean anything against her" he said, seeming to ignore Mary's offer. "I've known this happen before. And of course when Penelope's little time comes there'll be thousands of young men Mamma will have in, all that part of it is in my mother's blood. No, but where I am concerned, she's making an excuse to throw a party of her own. Apart from which one has to be sorry for parents. They had such a lot of money once and we've never seen what that was."

"I think it's a shame" she said rather mysteriously.

"If she wants to give her own 'do' why shouldn't she? And my twenty-firster provides the excuse because I know she can't afford two."

"But you should have your friends in for your own twenty-firster Philip."

"You don't understand" he said. "If I told her that, she's incredibly generous and she'd lend me the flat for the evening and enough money to give another."

"Then why don't you?"

"Because we can't afford it."

"I believe you simply won't bother with a party of your own Philip."

He laughed.

"Well" she said "it's your life after all."

"But I do wish she'd ask the relations" he insisted.

"Who've you got specially in mind?" she demanded.

"Uncle Ned" he replied, then rather mysteriously paused.

"What's so thrilling about him?" she asked.

"I see you haven't got the idea" he said. "I imagine you either have the feeling or you don't. I just feel a thing for my family that's all. Oh we're nobodies, our names have never been in history or any of that rot, I'd simply like to see him and I don't ever seem to."

"You can when you're married."

"How d'you mean?"

"It was what you said the other day Philip about not liking to ring your relations to propose yourself to tea. Well once yon marry a girl you'll be able to ask your uncle round as often as you please for him to get to know her."

"That's quite an idea" he agreed.

She watched him with an unfathomable expression.

"It's a bit stiff though to have to marry to meet one's uncle" he protested at last.

"Nothing's easy" she said. "Oh nothing's ever easy" she repeated. A pinched look came over her face. She pushed her empty plate away. "You get fed up" she muttered.

"Sick of it all!"

"Why whatever's the matter?"

"I don't know" she said and looked as if about to cry.

"I say I'm most dreadfully sorry. Would you like to go outside or something."

"Everything's so hopeless" she announced in a low voice.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

She appeared to pull herself a little together.

"I don't seem to get anywhere with my life Philip" she said not looking at him, eyes averted. "I mean" she went on and began to speak louder, with some assurance "I mean now that the only jobs one can land, or the only ones within reach, are state jobs, well I just can't move on, get promotion, arrive at the top where there's just the one person, you know. In the days when there was more private industry one could change around but as I am I'm no more than in a grade which I drag about with me like a ball and chain if I apply for another department."

"You wouldn't want to go back to the bad old times Mary" he gently remonstrated. "Not when we're making this country a place fit to live in at last."

"A ball and chain dragging at one all the time" she echoed as if she had not heard him. "And so it will be the whole of my life. I'll do a little bit better every year and get nowhere in the end."

"Mary" he cried "you're discouraged!"

"You' re telling me?" she asked, showing signs of indignation.

"No but look at all the way we've come the past few years" he protested.

"Oh yes" she agreed in an uninterested voice.

"And we're not working for ourselves now" he went on. "At least not those of us who are worth anything, like you and me. Besides, if you'll forgive my being personal, you'll marry have children."

"Will I?" she said in a small voice.

"Of course you must" he announced with what was almost impudent assurance.

"I don't think I shall Philip. But suppose I do, what will happen to them? Are they to work through a few grades unfit they reach retiring age by which time I'll be dead?"

"There's your grandchildren" he said not so confidently.

"How d'you know?" she demanded in a loud scornful tone then bit her lip.

There was a pause while he crumbled bread into pellets. He looked at her again. The face he saw seemed even younger, worn an expression of childish obstinacy.

"You were talking of my party" he tried. "Why don't you persuade your father to have one for you?"

"Oh Philip" she protested and gave him a hard, angry look. "One dance doesn't alter everything forever does it!"

"I know" he said at last "I get moments of utter discouragement too."

"You do Philip?" Her voice was softer.

"Fifty-two weeks in the year and we work fifty" he muttered.

"And they say buy a new hat so you'll feel different" she agreed.

"But we've got everything before ns haven't we?" he moaned as if he were looking down into his own grave.

"Year in year out" she assented.

"Sometimes it seems hopeless" he said and in his turn took on an appearance of obstinacy younger even than his years. As she watched him she visibly brightened.

"Cheer up Philip" she encouraged. "Things may not be as bad for all that."

"Here" he demanded, obviously puzzled. "I thought you were the one who saw no hope."

"Oh come on" she cried. "Let's not sit any more, glooming Sunday afternoon away! What about a film?"

"I'd love' to if you would" Mr Weatherby replied, back at his most formal, and in a short time they were off past the small round tables, with older people glancing up at them. As a couple they kept themselves to themselves under scrutiny, and would probably appear bright and efficient to their elders, quite a mirror to youth and the age they lived in.

They hardly spoke again that day, a kind of blissful silence lay between.

THE following morning, on the Monday, Mary Pomfret rang up her office to say she was indisposed and took a train to Brighton. Philip did the same. Neither knew what the other had done and they did not see one another on the way down.

Mary went straight to Mrs Weatherby's hotel but Philip strode off in the opposite direction. Soon he came to a pewter sea on which a tramp steamer was pushing its black smoke out in front and he had to lean himself against wind and rain.

Miss Pomfret selected a chair in full view of anyone who used the lift and not long afterwards when Mrs Weatherby descended she waved, went up to the gates to greet Jane. This lady seemed disconcerted.

"My dear" she said "am I supposed to recognize you?"

"Why how do you mean?"

"Are you alone Mary?"

Miss Pomfret laughed and appeared embarrassed.

"I think I must be" she said. "I don't see anyone else."

"My dear you will forgive me won't you, you really must but it was such a queer surprise. No, not so very long ago one never was sure whether to go up to a friend in this wretched uncomfortable place. You see there was no knowing if they wanted to be known. Absurd but there it is."

"Well I did rather need to see you as a matter of fact."

"You darling, then it's a visit" Mrs Weatherby cried although she still seemed wary and once or twice looked over a shoulder. "Come, where shall we choose for a cosy talk? But what a long way to travel" and chattering as if delighted she led the girl to a corner from which they could not be observed by anyone passing through the main lounge.

"I was kitling two birds with one stone I suppose actually" Miss Pomfret explained with obvious discomfort. "Oh no, such a rude way to put it! As a matter of fact there was something that I simply had to ask. Something that came up the Other day when I talked to Daddy."

The older woman seemed to pay a great deal of attention to the exact positioning of the diamond clip in the V of her dress.

"You see he said something about my mother" Mary went on. "And you" she added.

Mrs Weatherby sat up very straight.

"It's too wicked the wicked tongues there are" she cried in great indignation and at once. "I only hope my dear you won't ever have some such terrible experience you can look back on in your life and be sure that all your poor ills date right from it. Oh I went to my lawyer but he said let sleeping dogs lie, don't stir up mud, better not throw glass stones. I don't know if I did right, yet oh they should have been punished!"

"Please I didn't realize, I'm so sorry" Miss Pomfret murmured. "What can it have been?"

"I couldn't possibly tell" Jane protested. "I'd rather bite my own tongue off first. And so deceitful" she wailed. "People I'd known all my life, thought were my best friends."

"By the way don't tell Philip I came" Mary interposed at her most ill assured and nervous.

Mrs Weatherby at once assumed a mantle of tragic calm and decision.

"Then you know everything" she proclaimed in a low voice.

The two women stared at each other in amazement. Suddenly Jane laughed. A good-natured smile spread across her face but there was still a trace of slyness about the eyes. Miss Pomfret looked small, frightened, and bewildered.

"Then what exactly did dear John say?" the elder asked with a casual tone of voice.

"Only that Mummy and you were great friends."

"Darling Julia" Mrs Weatherby assented. "And you are so like her dears. Simply the living spit! I am very fond of John" she added then waited rather out of breath.

"You see I've never had anyone tell me about Mummy" the girl said with an appealing smile.

"But doesn't dear John?"

"Oh you know what Daddy is."

"Yes I see, I see. What was it exactly you wanted to find out?"

"But everything, how she was like, everything."

"Of course. Look my angel" Mrs Weatherby beamed on Mary "I'm such a stupid, so you will forget all I said about idle tongues won't you? I thought" she went on obviously at random "you'd heard something about that absurd houseparty. It was in Essex before you were born. But simply invented, every single word made up! I suppose people had much more time on their hands those days which made them so dangerous. Darling Julia!!" She sighed. "Darling darling Julia and how she would have simply been overjoyed, to be sitting looking at you here this instant minute!"

There was a pause during which Jane gazed earnestly into Miss Pomfret's face.

"Did. you go down to stay in Essex together then in those days?" the gift inquired at last.

"Never once" Mrs Weatherby replied immediately.

"Put all that right out of your sweet mind. Now promise me. You see my dear you were a little sudden, weren't you, so lovely there by the lift! And I was just a tiny bit upset."

"Why, is anything wrong?"

Jane gave the girl a shrewd look.

"These beastly servants" she said. "Half the time they don't know the dish they're serving. But how selfish of me! What was it you wanted about your dear mother?"

"I'm so ashamed" Mary excused herself. "Suddenly turning up like this of course you wouldn't understand at first."

"But where did you learn how to find me? You are really clever and so sweet with it."

"Philip said." At this Mrs Weatherby started. "Why that wasn't anything awful was it?"

"Awful?" Mrs Weatherby echoed, her response to this colder. At that moment Richard Abbot appeared for a minute on the way out behind his bags but Miss Pomfret had her back towards him. "Awful?" Jane repeated. "Good gracious me I should hope not. No it's just that little Penelope is ever such a little bit run down and I always think the wind down here is splendid don't you for all that sort of thing. No we've been like mice" she added "like mice, just breathing the air in! We simply haven't seen a soul."

"She got upset didn't she playing at being married?"

Mrs Weatherby took this with great good humour.

"Well my dear" she said "I can at least tell who you got that from. Oh no I'm not blaming, Philip is so sweet with his sister, only dear Mary I can speak out to you can't I, but sometimes he does rather overdo things don't you think, makes them out to be more than they really are. It's true an old friend came to tea and Penelope dear darling was a wee bit upset after." Mrs Weatherby paused, seemed to reftect. "She's so sensitive and jealous. It was one of my dearest friends, we went to dances together, had all the same partners, I've known her for years. And you know how things are. Soon as you have children of your own you'll come upon this very same problem you sweet soull When they're brought in after tea they expect undivided attention, the wonderful pets, and I suppose Pen thought she was being a trifle neglected."

"Probably mine will be at my skirts all day long if I have any" Miss Pomfret commented shyly. "But did this friend know Mummy too?" she asked.

"We all loved Julia" Mrs Weatherby answered. "Why we loved her!"

"Did you know Daddy too then?"

"Of course you angel! It was almost a double wedding. We were never a moment out of each other's houses at one time. Your beloved mother was my dearest friend!"

"Who did you get to love first?"

There was a pause, then Jane cried "Just listen to you. Isn't that sweet!" And Mrs Weatherby's extraordinary eyes did at this moment fill with tears. So she went on for twenty minutes about Julia's perfections following which, after hardly putting another question, Mary excused herself and left.

Once she was outside the girl hurried back to the station.

Mrs Weatherby had just set her face to rights when she looked up to find her son Philip standing there.

"Good Lord dear boy have you seen Mary?" she cried.

"I had lunch with her yesterday" he said.

"No just now not an instant ago" she insisted.

"My sweet Mamma she's in the office cutting out an article on English cherry blossom for the Japanese."

"What are you down here for then?"

"Oh I thought I'd have a change. To tell the truth I'd something I rather wanted to ask."

"And you came all the way down to Brighton just for that?"

"It wasn't anything I could very well mention over the phone. Look here you won't be annoyed will you but am I Father's son?"

Mrs Weatherby went deep red under the make-up.

"Are you what?" she demanded menacingly.

"All right Mamma forget this" he said in haste.

"What has one done to deserve it?" she claimed in a low voice. She looked closely at his hangdog face. Then she again began to laugh. "Oh God" she said. "Forgive me dearest but what a gowk you are! So you're in love with her isn't that the thing? Or is it more of this damned snobbery? Philip do take your hat off and sit down. You can't stand in a hotel lobby to ask questions like you just have of your very own mother your flesh and blood and remain covered!" He sat at her side. "There" she said "that's better. Are you sure you feel quite all right? Are you contemplating marriage, Philip?"

He mumbled no.

"Quite sure?" she asked. "So this is the reason she wished to see me then" she added.

"Who?"

"Mary."

"No Mamma what can she have wanted? You say she's been here?"

"Why all the hurry though dear boy? Good God but you aren't now proposing to dope? With Mary? Oh my dears." She peered at him with her marvellous soft eyes as though he might be ill. "Please oh please don't do anything sudden darling, always such a mistake" she said. She laid a white fat hand on his forearm to restrain him. "If much happened I'd never be able to look poor John in the face after" she appealed. "Promise me! But you're wet" she cried "you're soaked through." She moved her hand to his forehead. "It's burning!" she announced. "That's how it is then, you're in a high fever, you don't know what you're doing, oh dear and in a hotel too. Did you see little Penelope?"

"Who, Mamma?"

"I'm so worried but this of course explains everything, you've a great temperature. No I've been fussed about the darling if you really want an answer to your stupid question. There are some people here who seemed perfect and I let her run out with their child, the two of them. are just of an age. Now look my dear boy you must change at once and have a good hot bath. No arguments please. Oh you'll be the death of me with your pneumonia and your silly insane ideas. Here's the key to my room. Have a really hot bath and sit in my dressing gown while I see, the manager."

"See the manager?" he echoed.

"To get your clothes dried of course" she told him. "You don't suppose I specially bring a change of suits for you when I come away for the weekend and haven't been told that you're to pay me a visit unannounced. If children only knew the worry and responsibility they were to their parents."

"But I'm all right" he protested.

"You sit there and say that to my face after what you've just asked about me; no I don't want to worry you but you're seriously ill Philip or it would be better for you if you were! Perhaps though in spite of everything you're just insane."

He sat apparently unmoved.

"I'm sorry, I do apologize" he said.

"You'll forgive me but your whole generation's hopeless, I must say it so there!" Mrs Weatherby pronounced, still in the low tones she had used all along to voice her indignation. "You're prudes, there's this and that can't be discussed before you and then you come out with some disgusting nonsense of which you should be thoroughly ashamed. I'm in despair that's all, I'm simply in despair!"

"I had to know" he said.

"That's quite enough" she cried. "Now be off at once and have your bath or I shall be quite cross. No do go Philip or you'll catch your death."

He went. She settled back like a great peacock after a dust bath, sighing.

WHEN Miss Pomfret got back to London she rang Arthur Morris to ask if it would be convenient to call. She arranged to have tea with him at the nursing home.

"This is really nice of you Mary" he said as she came in. "Just what your mother would have done. Julia was the kindest woman in the world."

Miss Pomfret seemed at her brightest.

"Was she? Did you know her well?" she asked, making the question into flattery.

"You see we were all in the one set, went about together, stayed great pats most of the time."

"Most of the time?" she echoed with an artless expression.

"Well it must be so with your generation" Mr Morris answered. "We had our ups and downs. People fall out, then come together again. Don't you find that?"

"Me? Oh I haven't any friends."

"Haven't any friends, a pretty girl like you. Or is there something wrong?"

"Wrong with me!" she cried.

"So you see you've got hundreds of 'em" he concluded.

"I haven't, honestly. I don't think we meet the number. of different people you used to."

"It may not be quite the same for girts of course but boys still go to Eton don't they?"

"I suppose" she said. "Did Mummy know many?"

"Etonians?"

"Don't be idiotic" she demanded smiling. "No, people of course."

"Yes" he said "a beautiful woman like that would have, wouldn't she?"

"And Mrs Weatherby and she got married at the same time?"

"They did" he replied.

"D'you think Philip and I look like each other?" she asked.

"No I don't."

"Who were her other friends?"

"Your mother? Well everyone of our lot. You've seen 'em about again and again whenever your father invites them in."

"He's to give another party now" she announced.

"Don't tell me that just when I'm stuck here like this!"

"But you'll be out soon?"

"Oh I expect so. When is it?"

"This is funny" she said. "You know how cautious Daddy can be. It seems Mrs Weatherby's planning one and he wants to see how hers goes before he commits himself."

"I don't know why he need" Mr Morris objected. He hitched himself back against the pillows as though the cradle under bedclothes over his leg were sucking his whole body towards the foot. "They'll be the same old crowd in the end" he added.

"And was that the case when Mummy was alive?"

"How d'you mean?"

"Well anyway who were her particular friends?"

"We've all kept together, those who're still alive of course. You've met every single one Mary."

"Then why ask them to Philip's twenty-firster?"

"Is that what Jane's doing?"

"It's what she will do" the girl replied. "Oh I've no call to say a word even. But don't you think it rather dim for Philip?"

"I don't know" he said. "Nothing's happened yet surely?"

"How d'you mean?"

"I'm still without an invitation and she would be bound to ask me."

"Yet you're in bed aren't you? Oh I am so sorry, how horribly rude. I am beastly."

"You aren't" he said. "But of course she'd send an invite even if t couldn't come. We've all stuck together always."

"It's not for me to say but don't you think at his twentyfirster Philip ought to see more people of his own age?"

"Of course I don't know who is actually to be invited" he replied. "Do you mean John's going to ask only his old cronies to your party?"

"Oh I've got no one, I don't meet a soul" she answered. "You knew Mummy. What would she have done?"

"The same as Jane I imagine."

"She would have invited her."

"Yes" Mr Morris said doubtfuIly. "Oh yes, at one time."

"You see I was told Daddy and Mrs Weatherby had had a terrific affair once."

Mr Morris seemed uncomfortable.

"Well I don't know about that" he said. "We had our ups and downs. One can't be sure of anything. But what would be wrong if they had?" he asked.

"Oh nothing" she agreed too hastily. "Nothing in the least. Surely I can be curious when I never knew Mummy" she pouted "don't remember her at all."

"Yes it certainly can't be easy for you" he said.

"I've not known anything else and that's easy" she objected.

Shortly afterwards she left, having learned no more from him.

Later, in time for a glass of sherry, Philip Weatherby sent his name up and was welcomed by Mr Morris.

"Mary's just been" the older man said.

"I'm back from Brighton as a matter of fact and everyone seems to be asking me if I've come from Mary. I can't understand it."

"You must be thinking of her all the time" Mr Morris replied.

"How's that?"

"Did you never notice, Philip? You see someone in the street you haven't met for years and the next fortnight you come across them again and again for a bit. You'd better look out, you're falling in love."

"What's the connection?"

"Forget it I was only joking. There's none of course. Your mother's to give a party I hear."

"Yes she is."

"Your twenty-firster?"

"No, just a small thing for her friends. I don't see much point in twenty-firsters do you? Or bachelor dinner parties before you're married. All that tripe is out of date!"

"Oh I don't know Philip. How about silver weddings?"

"They're different" the young man announced.

"They're family. There can be some point in those. But I wanted to ask something. D'you think Mr Pomfret's in love with my mother or her with him?"

"Is she feeding him?"

"What on earth are you getting at?"

"Does she ask him continually to meals. Not drinks, meals."

"Well yes he does come pretty often."

"It's an infallible sign with women Philip. Do you mind?"

"Me? Why should I? It's none of my business. But look here this is strictly private. Was he very much in love with Mamma once?"

"My dear chap I've no way of knowing."

"He was supposed to be wasn't he? Didn't you tell me that?"

"That's not evidence" Mr Morris objected.

"I mean did he ever actually have a child by her?"

Arthur Morris gave the young man a long look before he replied. "Where is it now if he did?"

"How should I know?"

"Then all you've got is the evidence of your own senses Philip. I wouldn't worry if I were you."

There was no resemblance physical or otherwise between Mr Weatherby and Mary when shortly after, without another word on this subject, Philip made his excuses and left with ill grace.

LATER that week Philip Weatherby and Mary Pomfret were sitting in the downstairs lounge of the same respectable public house off Knightsbridge.

"They all ought to be liquidated" he said obviously in disgust.

"Who Philip?"

"Every one of our parents' generation."

"But I love Daddy."

"You can't."

"I do, so now you know."

"They're wicked darling" he exclaimed. "They've had two frightful wars they've done nothing about except fight in and they're rotten to the core."

"Barring your relations I suppose?"

"Well Mamma's a woman. She's really not to blame. Nevertheless I do include her. Of course she couldn't manage much about the slaughter. And she can be marvellous at times. Oh I don't know though, I think I hate them every one.

"But why on earth?"

"I feel they're against us."

"You and me do you mean?"

"Well yes if you like. They're so beastly selfish they think of no one and nothing but themselves."

"Are you upset about your twenty-firster then?"

"Not really" he answered. "I wouldn't've had one in any case."

"Then what is actually the matter?"

There was a long pause.

"It's because they're like rabbits about sex" he said at last.

"But I don't know the habits of rabbits, do I, except they have delicious noses?"

"You're laughing at me."

"I am a bit."

"But you realize I'm right, Mary darling."

"No I don't" she said. "And I'm mad about Daddy."

"Well then what d'you really think about my mother?"

"To me she's very clever and rather sweet, now at all events."

"Even when she practically broke up your mother's home?"

"Oh no Philip you're not to go on in this way about parents. If you continue like it you'll begin to have them on the brain and then there'll be rows and all sorts of unpleasantnesses."

"But can you stand by and listen to this talk of theirs without putting in a word?"

"Mummy's dead, we'll never know the truth and it's you who're raking a whole lot up or so I think."

"Oh I didn't have that idea at alt" he protested.

"Yet Philip it can only harm Mummy."

"When she was the aggrieved party?" he demanded.

"Of course. You must be discreet you really must."

"I'm sorry. It's natural the whole business should be beastly for you. Forgive me." He sounded genuine and penitent. She smiled rather sadly.

"You' re forgiven" she said.

But it appeared he was unable to keep off the subject.

"I went to see Arthur Morris the other day" he began again.

"So did I."

"You did? Yes I think he said something. I've forgotten. But he made the oddest statement. That when a woman starts to get tired of a man she stops feeding him, having him in for real meals."

"If that's so then I truly love Daddy because I what you call feed the dear one all the time."

"We did discuss him as a matter of fact."

"In what way?" she demanded with signs of irritation.

"As to whether Mamma was still fond of your father."

"No Philip you shan't go on like this and you simply mustn't discuss Daddy with Mr Morris. I won't have it d'you hear? You're just raking the ashes and I tell you it's most frightfully suspect."

"I know" he hastened to explain. "I see your point. But I can't sleep at night now, I'm getting in a regular state."

"Oh darling what's the matter?" she asked nervously, and for the first occasion in the evening looked full at him.

"I hope you'll find this absurd, too ridiculous for words, but I've told you before, we might be half brother and sister."

"So you want to make out whether I'm one of your precious relatives?" she asked with scorn.

"Well yes in a way. Yes I do."

"Then I'm not!" she said in almost a loud voice. "I've been making inquiries on my own and we're quite definitely not what you say."

"We aren't?" he cried and it was obvious that he was deeply excited. "You're sure? Certain?"

"Yes Philip."

"But how? Who can possibly tell?"

"Now I'm not going to have another word about that poor wretched worthy of yours ever again. And you're to promise me before we leave here!"

"You swear it's true Mary?"

"I do" she said. She got out a handkerchief, blew her nose hard. "Now will you promise?"

He showed signs of great nervousness.

"All right. Yes. I will" he said.

She gave him a small smile.

"It's right, what I said. You can trust me" she averred.

"But you went to find out on your own?" he demanded.

"Now you promised yon know" she reminded him.

"Yes" he said.

There was a further pause.

"Have another drink?" he asked with enthusiasm at last. "You don't want to go on with those light ales. Try a short."

"I think I'll stik to beer if yon do feel like one more" she replied, smiling sadly at him. This time she did not offer to pay the round and sighed as she looked at her face in her mirror while he went to fetch their drinks.

"Have you heard about little Penelope?" he inquired when he came back. He laughed in rather a wild manner.

"No."

"She can't let go of her arm now."

"What do you mean?"

"She will persist in hugging her own elbow, Mary. Holds her left arm in the right hand all day, even falls asleep like it at night."

"And how does your mother accept that one?" Miss Pomfret demanded with the first sign of malice she had shown.

"Well I think she's wrong, she takes not the slightest notice Mamma doesn't. But to my mind it might be really serious."

"In what way?" the girl demanded in a bored voice.

"You see I got to the bottom" he replied. "Cheers" he said, raising the glass to his lips. She let her drink stand on the table. "I made Pen come out with it" he went on. "You've no idea the passion for secrecy they have at that age."

"I was one once you know" she reminded him.

"By now you must have forgotten" he said. "Well it seems she saw a war-wounded man with a stump for an arm on the front at Brighton without his coat, escaping out of chains or something. So she thinks unless she keeps hold she'll lose hers."

Miss Pomfret yawned.

"I've told Mamma but she won't catch on" he continued. "Mary what do you think?"

"I expect Penelope's doing this to attract attention. Girls usually like attention you know" Miss Pomfret said.

"But if that's the case she'll go on indefinitely."

"I suppose she may Philip."

"That's a grim thought surely?"

"One day she'll marry and then her husband can take over" Miss Pomfret dryly suggested.

"Well you know what my mother is. I can't understand her ignoring this. Oh aren't one's parents and their friends extraordinary! Imagine what I overheard between Mamma and that old Abbot. He was going endlessly on about his war experiences out in Italy. She'd said how wonderful she found white oxen, I expect someone once said those great eyes of hers were so like. As a matter of fact I distinctly admire her eyes don't you? But anyway he said he'd spent night after night out with them. That made Mamma scream all right. So he came back that a night in a stall with an ox was a damn sight better than one out in the open alone under stars. Then she asked did they snore? Would you believe it? And there's worse coming. Because when he didn't reply Mamma said 'Do they dream Richard?' Honestly I was nearly sick."

"I know" Miss Pomfret agreed. "They can be frightful."

MRS WEATHERBY was giving Mary's father dinner.

"Oh my dear" she said "when are we ever going to see the sun?" He sighed.

"Is there simply never to be spring this year?" she insisted.

"The continual rain is too frightful" Mr Pomfret agreed. "Well Jane was your trip down to Brighton a success?"

"It helped Penelope and me so enormously John."

"Did you see anyone?" he incuriously inquired.

" Richard Abbot came over for the day which was sweet of him wasn't it? Oh yes Philip was kind enough to look in."

"And how's Pen?"

"Ah the gallant angel" Jane cried. "She's my one comfort apart from you. She loved Brighton. Just came back with a little thing, only that she has somehow to keep hold on her elbow, but I know a way to manage the little sweet. I'm going to buy her a bag, John, to carry. Now don't you think that a brilliant notion?"

"Well well" he said, not to commit himself perhaps. "And Philip?"

"Oh no, there I'm in despair" she announced. "Simply desperate."

"Would you like me to talk to him?"

"Dear John I've changed my mind" she said. "I think I'd really rather not, that you didn't. It was poor Richard offered himself you remember and put it in my head. Of course I thought at once how much better you would be if you could. But the boy's been so disagreeable, John. Don't remind me of him please."

"He hasn't been rude to you?"

"Oh no not quite. It's just I think he's insane. Better leave him strictly to his poor mad self. And you? How have you been?"

"As well as may be these hard times."

"How true that is darling. But then Mary? What's her news?"

"I don't seem to see much of her, Jane. One's offspring are a sacred farce."

"John you don't think this extraodinary feeling they have for snobbery, some of them that is because I'm sure I've not noticed the tiniest trace, even, in Mary, can you suppose it would go oh I can't tell but to absurd lengths with them, even to refusing to marry outside the family?"

"What've you got in mind? The old Continental requirement of sixteen quarterings in a husband?"

"No no my dear I wish I had" she said. "Or rather I think it quite out of date don't you and in any ease haven't any, that is I can't run to that extraordinary number. But of course in a small way it might simplify things."

"How Jane?"

"Well naturally not with my Philip" she explained in a laugh. "He's got the idea now right enough. Yet I've warned him it might cut both ways, prevent his marrying someone he very much wanted. And again I don't mean Mary, I'm sure the dear child is much too sensible. But oh John I have warned Philip if not once then quite a thousand times. No but the whole picture has grown so enormous in his poor head t really believe he feds deep down inside him that he must simply must find a wife so dose that the marriage could almost turn out to be incestious John."

"Incestuous. So you're afraid he'll never start a family is that it?" Mr Pomfret did not appear to take the conversation seriously.

At this point Mrs Weatherby left her place to twitter in bad Italian down the dumb-waiter shaft. She was answered by a sweet babble that was almost song.

"Ah these Southerners" the lady remarked as she sat herself at table again. "The other day Isabella came to me for half a crown. The last occasion she asked for money was only the whole return fare to go back to Italy to vote in the elections. So I naturally wanted to know what for this time and what d'you suppose she said, why simply to buy a mouse. 'Get a mouse?' I said after I'd looked the word up in the dictionary. 'Because Roberto' that's our cat 'is so lonely' she answered. I screamed, I just yelled, wouldn't you? I can't bear cruelty to animals John dear. But she's so persistent and in the end of course she got her own way! Naturally I kept out of the house for a few days after that and forbade sweet Penelope the kitchen or I said I'd simply never speak to the child again. And then I forgot. Isn't it dreadful the way one does? I went down there for something or other and Isabella showed me. They were both drinking milk out of the same saucer, Roberto and his mouse. John is it sorcery, spellbinding or something?"

He laughed. "No I'd heard of that before, dear Jane."

"You truly had? Sometimes, lying in my lonely, lonely bed at night I wonder if I just imagine I'm alive and all these queer things are true. Because I don't like to say it but Philip is simply very odd. He asks me the most extraordinary questions John."

"Does he now?"

"Oh I don't want to go into things" she said in haste. "Were we like that once dear?" she asked. Then "Are we never to be served?" she demanded with hardly a pause and in the same voice. At which she called from the table an unintelligible phrase in which she displayed great confidence to be answered by an understanding, distant shout.

"Mary's been displaying quite an interest lately" he suggested.

"Has she? No you know you have really something there in that gift" she said. "Mary's such a sweet child."

"Thank you Jane" he replied. "Yes" he went on "she seems quite taken up with the past for the present, no pun intended."

"What past?"

"Ours of course" he answered. "What other could she wish to learn at eighteen? She wants to know the who's who of all our friends and to find out even if you and I didn't see a deal of each other at one time."

"Well I don't know if i'd care…" Mrs Weatherby murmured.

"And you don't imagine I'd blurt I don't know what out to me own daughter?" Mr Pomfret demanded. "No what's over is over."

"Maybe for you perhaps" she responded. "Oh how must it be to be born a man!"

"Trousers my dear are very uncomfortable. I wish I wore skirts. No honestly since my tailor lost his cutter to a bomb in the war I haven't been able to sit down to meals in comfort, it's frightful."

"Would you like to go out for a minute then since' we never seem to be going to get anything to eat?"

"What and leave you on your own, darling?" he cried. "At the mercy of a foreign language you hardly understand?"

"I speak Italian quite nicely now thank you" she smiled. "And do you know, I've never had a single lesson."

"Don't don't" he wailed. "When I think of the daily woman who changes every two months and who what she calls cooks for us."

"My poor John you should have someone to look after you" Mrs Weatherby said obviously delighted.

"Oh Mary's very good" he said at once. "It's not her fault you know."

"I do realize, who could understand better than me?" she exclaimed. "If I hadn't always been so quick with languages I'd be in the same boat" she cried. "But it's not the children's fault John. We were able to travel, try our accents out and they still can't."

"Mary's very good" he said "only she won't get me jugged hare."

"Jugged hare?" Mrs Weatherby echoed in plain desperation. "Jugged hare! Oh my dear does that mean you are very difficult about it? Because that's precisely what I'm giving you this evening."

Her lovely eyes filled with tears. He got to his feet, went round to the back of her and kissed a firm cheek while she held her face up to him.

"My perfect woman" he said.

"But should I have remembered?"

"You have" he answered sitting down again. "My favourite dish."

"That's just it John oh dear" she cried. "You're an expert, you've tried jugged hare in all your clubs and now here's, poor me offering it to you cooked by a Neapolitan 'who probably thinks the jugged part comes out of a jar in spite of all I poured out to her about port wine! And I tried to teach her so hard darling. There's still time to change though. Would you like some eggs instead?"

"But I told you" he replied eyes gleaming "you've picked my favourite. Jane this is a red-letter evening."

"I only hope it will be" she said at her most dry. "We're still at the stage of just having had the soup. Some 'more wine John?" and she passed the bottle then went to shout down the shaft.

"Io furiosa" she yelled "Isabella!"

A long wail in Italian was the answer.

"No don't darling, I can smell it at last" Mr Pomfret laughed. "And it is going to be delicious."

AT THE same great hotel in which they held their Sunday luncheons Mrs Weatherby reserved a private room to entertain old friends in honour of Philip's twentyfirster.

Standing prepared, empty, curtained, shuttered, tall mirrors facing across laid tables crowned by napkins, with space rocketing transparence from one glass silvered surface to the other, supporting walls covered in olivecoloured silk, chandeliers repeated to a thousand thousand profiles to be lost in olive-grey depths as quiet as this room's untenanted attention, but a scene made warm with mass upon mass of daffodils banked up against mirrors, or mounded once on each of the round white tables and laid in a fiat frieze about their edges-here then time stood still for Jane, even in wine bottles over to one side holding the single movement, and that unseen, of bubbles rising just as the air, similarly trapped even if conditioned, watched unseen across itself in a superb but not indifferent pause of mirrors.

Into this waiting shivered one small seen movement that seemed to snap the room apart, a door handle turning.

Then with a cry unheard, sung now, unuttered then by hinges and which fled back to creation in those limitless centuries of staring glass, with a shriek only of silent motion the portals came ajar with as it were an unoperated dash of cymbal to usher Mrs Weatherby in, her fine head made tiny by the intrusion perhaps because she was alone, but upon which, as upon a rising swell of violas untouched by bows strung from none other than the manes of pale unicorns that quiet wait was ended, the room could gather itself up at last.

As after a pause of amazement she stepped through, murmuring over a shoulder "Oh my darlings," the picture she made there, and it was a painting, was echoed a thousand thousand times; strapless shoulders out of a full grey dress that was flounced and soft but from which her shoulders rose still softer up to eyes over which, and the high forehead, dark wings of her hair were folded rather as a raven may claim for itself the evening air, the chimes, the quiet flight home to rest.

"How good of Gaspard" Jane said with an awed voice. At which Philip and Mary entered in their turn. The boy switched on more light.

"No don't" Mrs Weatherby reproved in the same low tones. "You'll spoil it all" she said.

"But it's lovely" Miss Pomfret murmured.

Pascal sidled through the door which he closed, then turned the lights down again until the room held its original illumination yet there was now the difference made by this intrusion of bare arms and women's shoulders. Mary studied hers in a mirror she had reached. Dressed in black with no jewelry the similar milk white of her face and chest was thinner, watered down beside Mrs Weatherby's full milk cream of flesh which seemed to retain a satisfied glow of the well-fed against Mary's youth starvation. But there was this about the whites of Miss Mary Pomfret's eyes, they were a blue beyond any previously blessed upon humanity by Providence compared with the other ladies to be present, and it was perhaps to these sweet rounds of early nights that her own attention turned be cause Jane's were red veined as leaves.

"Is Madame satisfied?" Pascal asked, almost one old friend to another, his false restaurant accent forgotten at this minute.

"Monsieur Medrano you are truly wonderful" the lady said. "When I had to sell my precious brooch to give the evening I didn't know-how could I tell-"she faltered, and he could see her eyes fill with tears.

"We have done my best for Madame" the great man answered. "Madame is more beautiful than ever" he proudly announced. "I say to Gaspard, 'Gaspard' I said 'let all be as never before my friend because you know who will be taking our Parma rooms tonight.'"

"No don't-you mustn't-I shall really cry in a moment" Mrs Weatherby exclaimed from the heart. "But it is perfect!"

"Jolly good" her son brought out.

"Ah Philip please not, I'm sorry to be so rude, you see you'll ruin this perfect thing. There do just be content to be an angel and simply place the cards."

Pascal made small adjustments to napkins folded into linen crowns.

"You did tell the chef about our soufflй?" Mrs Weatherby asked eventually.

When the great man replied he used the restaurateur's manner.

"He said it over to me by heart, by heart I made him repeat, Madame. And we have a small favour to ask Madame. We will order orchids for the ladies, gardenias for the gentlemen if you please?"

"But Pascal good heavens my bill!"

"The management they come to me" he proclaimed "they say 'it is not often we have with us Mrs Weatherby, Medrano.' They remember Madame. No no Madame if you will allow us it is on the 'otel" he said.

"It's too much, children have you heard? Pascal you must thank Mr Poinsetta very specially from me. No I will come tomorrow myself!" She fingered daffodils here and there on the top table, not to disarrange these but almost as though to reassure herself that all were true, to prove to her own satisfaction that she was not bewitched.

"I shall be at call" Pascal said and sidled out. Mrs Weatherby followed him with her eyes. When the door was quite shut she turned the glance on Mary who was still examining herself in a glass. The older woman stared.

"My dear you look sweet" she gravely said.

"Doesn't she" Philip answered from his task.

"Do I?" the girl said and turned to him.

Mrs Weatherby frowned.

"Wonderful" she echoed. "And isn't it good of you to come so soon to help. I always feel so nervous, distracted before a party I'm giving. And now this divine place has truly done us proud! Philip I wonder if you realize there aren't many women in London they'd put themselves out for in this heavenly way."

Her son looked up, the seating list in one hand. "You're telling me" he said. "Look Mamma you've a card here" he waved it "and there's no mention of him in my plan. Mr William Smith."

"Nonsense my dear, poor William's dead these ages past."

"Well there's his card."

"Give it here Philip. That must be an old one. Why it's all yellow. How odd and sad." She tore the thing up into very small bits. She looked about for an ashtray. "How dreadful" she murmured. "Philip you didn't do this. to me?"

"Never heard of the man" he replied with what was obviously truth.

"Mary my dear I wonder if I might bother you" Mrs Weatherby suggested brightly. "Such a shame to leave these pieces when everything's so fresh! Of course there is behind my daffodils in the fireplace but I rather think not don't you, I never like to look the other side of anything in hotels. Could you be sweet and put them right outside?"

Mary received those pieces, and was reaching for the handle, when the door opened and her father's head appeared.

"Well here we are" he cried at his most jovial. "Hello my love" he said to his daughter as she passed him. "Jane my dear, me dear" he boomed then strode towards her.

She offered him a cheek. While he kissed she pushed hers just the once sharply back at him. She did the same when he kissed the other side.

"Dear darling John how kind" she cried. "D'you think I did right? I said I wouldn't have Eduardo to announce Weo the guests. After all we do all know each other don't we?"

"As long as they find the way dear. I notice Mary has.

Until I found her note at home I distinctly thought we were to come on to this together."

"It's been such true kindness of her to arrive early and help" Mrs Weatherby insisted. "No the cloakroom people will tell stragglers where we are. And then I shall send Philip out to round them up. But haven't they done me proud darling?"

"Why but you're the only person out of all London tonight Jane! Even at this sad hotel they realize that."

"You're such a comfort indeed! Philip have you finished with those cards?" At which Mary Pomfret ushered Richard Abbot through the door. "Oh Dick!" their hostess cried.

"I say I say" he said as he advanced and kissed both her cheeks in turn while she pushed sharply twice back at him. "Well look at you" he exclaimed gazing fondly on her. "Wonderful eh?" he demanded and ended with a "Simply astounding!"

"But which?" she demanded radiant. "The room or me?"

"God bless my soul both. No, here, what am I saying? Dear Jane" he said "could there be a choice? I mean with you standing there! Hello John. Seems we're a bit early aren't we, you and I?"

"Darling Richard" she murmured. "Oh I'm so lucky!"

Then another male guest entered. Mrs Weatherby greeted him with warmth but gave the man no more than the one cheek which she held immovable and firm undergreat mischievous eyes.

The party had begun.

HALF the guests had put in an appearance before Miss Jennings presented herself looking sadly pretty and also, on closer inspection, quite considerably upset.

As Liz made her way to greet the hostess through a small crowd of company drinking cocktails John Pomfret came forward, as if breasting the calls with which Miss Jennings greeted so many friends in order to give her special welcome.

She did not pause but hissed, "Oh my dear where have you been? I phoned you all day," and then found herself before Mrs Weatherby, to burst into exclamations, to praise, to receive praises until she had her chance alone for a moment with Jane.

"Darling d'you know what that beastly Maud Winder's said? That I was tipsy at Eddie's dance."

"But I've never heard anything so frightful in my whole life" this lady cried albeit in a careful, restrained voice. "Oh my dear how criminal of Maud!"

"Isn't it? I think I could hate that woman Jane. Have you invited her tonight?"

"If I'd only been told" Mrs Weatherby exclaimed with caution. "What can I say? But Eddie's here and he won't move without her" as another I could mention without someone else, her wary eye expressed unheard to be taken up silently again and again in tall mirrors.

"Then you could ask him if she told the truth. No Jane I do so wish you would" Miss Jennings implored with open signs of agitation.

"As though I should even dream of such a thing! Liz, your worst enemy, not that you have one in the whole wide world darling would never conceive of anything horrible like that." Upon which, well out of sight down along a plump firm thigh Mrs Weatherby crossed two fingers.

"But isn't it terrible-?" Liz began and had to stand back for a newly arrived couple who came up to go through the shrill ritual of delighted cries at Jane's appearance, at their own reaction to the flattery she repaid with interest, and at the blossoming, the to them so they said incredible conjuring up out of these perfect flowers, of a spring lost once more for yet another year to the sad denizens of London in rain, fog, mist and cold. When these two had drifted off Miss Jennings was able to start afresh.

"As if I ever did drink, really drink I mean. Oh my dear and I was so looking forward to this heavenly evening!"

"You must put it quite out of your sweet head" Mrs Weatherby proclaimed with emphasis while she smiled and nodded when she caught a guest's already perhaps rather overbright eye. "I shall speak to Maud myself. This is too bad."

"I'm not at her table oh do say not!"

"I wouldn't dream of such a thing you're with us John and me of course" upon which Miss Jennings with a hint of timidity in her bearing as if she'd just heard yet another insinuation against her security had once more to step back while a second couple paid respect. Then when these two had done with Jane they descended for an endless minute on Miss Jennings until at last they picked their way off towards the drinks.

"My dear can't I get Philip to fetch you just a little one?" Mrs Weatherby asked.

"And leave Maud Winder draw her own conclusions?" the younger woman wailed. "Because if you had sat us down a place away from each other then I really believe I'd have had to beg you to change round the cards."

Jane put on a stern look.

"Liz darling you can take these things too fax" she begged. "Oh what haven't I suffered myself in my time from idle tongues! Why only the other day my own child came to me with some extraordinary tale that I'm sure I'd never heard ever but about me of course. Sometimes think stories of that kind hang about like nasty smells in old cupboards and I'm sure are just as hard to get rid of. Forget all about it, If know I have. The mere suggestion with someone like you darling is too ridiculous for words. And I always say when I see a man drink cider at meals that means he can't trust himself."

"Maybe I will have a weak one then."

"Philip." Mrs Weatherby waved. "Philip! Martini or sherry?"

"Oh perhaps a sherry please."

"My dear boy Miss Jennings has nothing to drink! You must keep moving around yon know. Liz would like a sherry and I think I'll try one of those martinis. Oh dear I'll be drunk as a fishwife if I do, but hang it's what I say, might as well be hung for a lamb or whatever the silly phrase is Liz don't you agree, you must!"

"But for one to be said one is when you aren't!"

"Now you promised me Liz darling!"

"When I haven't ever in my life" the young woman persisted.

"Darling" Mrs Weatherby warned with a hint of impatience.

"Oh I know I'm being a bore" Miss Jennings cried. "How dreadful and you must please forgive! You see-" but yet another pair of new arrivals were making their way and as Jane advanced to meet these she gave Liz one of those long looks of love and expiation for which she was justly famous.

Miss Jennings went after John Pomfret.

"Where have you been all day?" she demanded when she had cornered him apart.

"This endless work work work" he answered.

"Not in your own office, that I do know" she cried.

"Precisely" he said. "Time was one could sit in one's room, do all which had to be done in comparative comfort. But no longer, not any more!"

"And I did want you so! Must it always be like this?"

"How d'you mean? Liz, is something the matter?"

"Just that beastly Maud Winder. She only said I was tight at Eddie's!"

"If she did then she's half seas over now herself!"

"Can the awful woman be here? I don't see her. No John don't be so absurd."

"But there" he said of a Mrs Winder who seemed dead sober in quiet conversation with her back to a mirror. "Tight as a coot."

"Well talk of the devil" Miss Jennings exclaimed. "Really I feel that if it weren't for Jane I ought to go up and slap that silly face. Do you honestly think she's drunk?"

"If she isn't quite now, she has been" he replied. "Something must have gone very wrong with her end of Eddie's party which brought her to repeat what she did, if in fact she did."

"Oh Arthur Morris told me."

"What a shame old Arthur can't be here."

"Yes" she said. "And a terrible story to insinuate against a girl!"

"Look Liz" he implored "forget the whole of this."

"You're asking me dear?" she demanded.

"Because I was with you Liz and you were sober as a judge."

"But that only makes everything all the worse."

"Naturally it does" he cheerfully agreed. "And so now then?"

"Do you truly love me?" she inquired.

"Of course I do."

"Are you sure?"

"Liz darling!"

"Well perhaps I'll just find myself able to last out" she said. "As long as the wretched woman doesn't dare speak to me that is. I could claw her heart right away from her fiat chest."

"Well Liz a wonderful show of Jane's by God eh?" a voice announced behind and she turned to find Richard Abbot. "Marvellous manager" he went on. "Can't imagine how she gets such detail organized these days. Upon my soul it's perfectly miraculous!"

"I know, Richard" Miss Jennings replied with an ani mated look. "And to see all one's nearest and dearest gathered in one room why it's unique! I do admire Jane so, she's a positive genius."

"Tell you what" Mr Abbot propounded. "A thousand pities poor old Arthur can't be present."

"I've a wire from him in my pocket this moment wishing us all the best of good times" John Pomfret said. "They handed it me outside."

"Has he telegraphed to Jane I wonder?" Liz thought aloud. "She would like it because this is her party after all."

"Oh the wire's for her all right. She doesn't know yet."

"Then let me take the thing along old boy" Mr Abbot asked in a proprietary voice. "Might buck her up a bit. Sure to be feeling a trifle nervous before the curtain rises so to speak."

"Why certainly" John responded reaching into his tails. "I could have done that myself" he said with a trace of irony. He handed the envelope over.

"But I say" Richard Abbot expostulated. "It's been opened."

"I told you what was inside didn't I old man?"

"I mean how am I to explain to her?"

"Just tell her it was me Richard."

"You opened a telegram addressed to Jane?" Miss Jennings demanded.

"I thought there might be a bit of bad news which could keep until the party was over" he told her in an almost insolent manner.

"Well you can keep the damn thing, break your own good tidings" Mr Abbot exploded without raising his voice and handed the envelope back. "Yes by God" he said then left them.

"He seemed quite upset" Mr Pomfret remarked.

"I'm not sure I quite like you in this mood" she warned.

"Oh come off your high horse Liz" he laughed. "You know I simply can't stand the fellow, pompous ass that the man is."

WHEN dinner was well under way, with servants hurrying about the round tables, John Pomfret, Liz, Richard Abbot and our hostess alone at theirs, the laugh ing and conversation everywhere at a great pitch, so Jane delighting with all her soul broke out with this comment on what they themselves had chanced on in their own chatter.

"Oh, isn't all this delicious my dears and doesn't it seem only the other day that we were deep in the topic of sex instruction for each others' children and here we are now in an argument about whether they ought to live out in rooms for freedom."

"Bachelors shouldn't speak up, I expect, but part of the idea was the young people might get used to living on what they earn surely?" Mr Abbot genially inquired.

" Darling Richard so unromantic" Mrs Weatherby crowed. "Don't you remember John years ago you got in such a state and I was to make a gramophone record for your Mary, oh wouldn't she have hated it, while in return you were to do one for Philip. Then we thought we'd advertise them and have a truly immense sale to the public."

"And I took you to the place in Oxford Street when soon as we got inside a glass box we were tongue-tied" John added.

They all laughed.

"Then what did you do?" Liz demanded.

"Why nothing of course" Mr Pomfret cried. "That is the whole beauty of us, we never can seem to do anything."

Jane dabbed at her eyes.

"What could a woman say to a schoolboy without making him feel such a perfect fool?" she demanded ecstatically. "But I worried like mad then didn't I John?"

"Bet you couldn't have" Mr Abbot said adoring.

"Oh yes I did" Jane assured him. "Tell me darlings isn't this being such a huge success? Don't you think it was a rather marvellous idea of mine to have them all at tables for four? As long as we insist on a general post with the coffee. You two men must start that ball rolling. Why I can hardly hear myself speak they make so terrific a racket!"

"The greatest fun Jane" Mr Pomfret assured her. Indeed it would have been difficult for any such party to go better.

"Well I was never told a thing" Liz said.

"Why you're to stay here of course. I don't intend us to move."

"I meant about sex Jane."

"No more was I" this lady wailed.

"And I've a fiat of my own which t can promise hasn't made all that difference."

"My dear you are between the two generations you fortunate angel! It's these children I'm so worried over. Now John you started the argument. What d'you say to Liz?"

"If our children were all like her we'd not need to discuss anything" he langhed. "What's your opinion. Richard?" he asked a bit hastily.

"Younger generation's all right I suppose" Mr Abbot temporized.

"But the sweet ones simply aren't" Mrs Weatherby beamed at him. "You know my dear you've been a weeny shade selfish all your life not having children. Though I do love you for it."

"Know nothing about 'em" he said.

"Yet you should, a great goodlooking man like you! It's unfair."

"When I said that, Jane, I didn't infer every parent I'm acquainted with doesn't come to me for advice" he riposted.

"Good for you Richard" Mr Pomfret cried. "You had US there."

The champagne they were drinking was plentiful.

"And me too" Liz claimed, as if she would not be left out.

"In that case I expect my dears you two know far more than any of us, mothers and fathers that we are" Mrs Weatherby laughed. "We're so ashamed we don't dare ask except, though I say who shouldn't, at some heavenly party like this."

"Oh no Jane" Mr Pomfret objected. "You go too far. Mary's always been Sweet. I'm ashamed of myself where she's concerned."

"But you know very well what I didn't mean darling" Mrs Weatherby cried. "Good heavens I simply never mean anything yet all my life I've got into such frightful trouble with my tongue."

"Certainly going like a house on fire" Mr Abbot said as he looked around the room.

"Oh aren't I fortunate to have such divine friends" Jane cried. "Still, all ioking apart my Philip really should take the plunge and launch off into a flat of his own."

"Can he afford it?" Miss Jennings wanted to be told.

"Gracious me I only meant a little room somewhere. The poor sweet mustn't be expected to fly before he's able to walk should he? Darling Maud Winder who can be so naughty sometimes, her girl is on her own. They all do it now and it might have been everything for us if we had been allowed couldn't that be so John?"

Mrs Weatherby found Richard Abbot gazing at her with a pleading expression.

"What l'm trying to say" she went on "simply is, if Philip won't ask girls to the house then he should go somewhere they can simply force themselves upon him."

"And if one fine day you found a mother ringing your doorbell Whose daughter he'd got in the family way?" Mr Abbot asked.

"Oh my, dear don't! But how barbarous of you Richard!

Wouldn't that be just the end! Yet I hardly think Philip could. Oh what have I said? I don't mean what's just slipped out at all. l'm sure he's perfectly normal. It's his principles you see. He's too high-principled to live!" Mrs Weatherby turned a shy look on John Pomfret. "What d'you feel dear?" she suggested.

"Well things are different with girls I suppose" he said. "I think females ought to share with another woman friend."

"So does Maud's Elaine."

"l know Jane" Liz interrupted "but how does that alter matters? She's no more than exchanging her mother for a girl her own age."

"The friend needn't always be in" Mrs Weatherby said. with a look of unease and distress.

"Nor need a father or mother dear."

"Yes Liz how perfectly right you are as always. But I'm convinced they could arrange for one or the other to be out sometimes! Think of the horrid awkwardness of fixing that up with a parent!!"

"It's worse when the parent has to implore his child not to be home at certain hours" John Pomfret said, a remark which was received in silence.

"Awkward lives you family people do seem to lead" Mr Abbot propounded. They all roared their laughter.

"How perfectly wicked of you Dick" Mrs Weatherby approved.

Pomfret said "My trouble is I never seem to hear of any gift who wants to share a zoom or two, do you?"

"Ought I d'you think?" Liz demanded.

"My dear" Mr Pomfret hastened to assure her "I didn't-I mean I wasn't fishing to get Mary in your fiat."

"That just didn't enter my head. What I meant John was, should I still continue to live alone? D'you believe that does make people talk even nowadays?"

"How about me?" Abbot inquired heavily. "Can my reputation stand it?"

"Now Richard" Mrs Weatherby remonstrated with some firmness. "Humour is not your long suit you know. I don't think what you're pretending a bit funny my dear."

"I can't see why everything should be different for men" Miss Jennings objected.

"Because they're expected to have women in and I imagine in all my innocence we're not supposed to have men" Jane said.

"I know that of course" Liz replied emptying her glass. "But I still don't see the big blot. If there's no more to it than low gossip then, while dreadful enough of course, should one change one's whole life round just for that!"

"I'd have thought there was a question of children" Mr Abbot explained. "Women having babies eh?"

"Richard" Mrs Weatherby cried in great good humour but in a stern voice. "Do please don't become coarse! Men can have children too can't they?"

"Dreadfully sorry and all that but girls do saddle themselves with the little things, have done since the start of time."

"Not Mary though" Jane said.

"No Richard's perfectly right" John assured them.

"The danger must be greater as you yourself admitted when you confessed you'd not care to have an outraged mother at your bell, the heavy expectant daughter at her heels. After all Liz you can look after yourself."

"Can I?" she interjected and was ignored.

"No what we were discussing" Mr Pomfret went on "was how to gently ease the fledglings from the downy nest. They have to learn to fly sometime. I know Mary will be all right but Jane doesn't want Philip a runner."

"Darling my boy's not won a race in his life."

"Wounded bird, broken wing, Jane" Mr Abbot explained.

THE young people for Philip's twenty-firster consisted of Philip Weatherby, Mary Pomfret. Elaine Winder and the youth she had brought with her, Derek Wolfram. These four made up one of the round tables.

Elaine had drawn attention to Miss Jennings to ask if her name was what it was. On being assured this could be so, she inquired whether Liz was a particular friend of anyone present; Philip looked at Mary, had no sign, kept silent, and Miss Winder then continued.

"Well my children" she said "the way some women do go on! t saw this with my own sore eyes. Mummy had taken me to a certain party. We brought along a bottle of champagne as a matter of fact which turned out to be a bit of a swindle because no one else had, in fact a woman old enough to be my grandmother just took one of vermouth. There's nothing cheaper surely, I mean you have to pay more for orangeade don't you? Anyway there was this person Miss Jennings, right next me on a sofa where I'd managed to tuck myself in because there was not a soul for me about, it was one of these so-called literary dos, God no. I was listening to a conversation she was having with a type who'd sat himself down between, no friend of mine good Lord, I wouldn't have touched him with a bargepole but anyway there he was and he seemed to know her and that was that when suddenly I heard him say, 'Can't I get you another drink?' and she mumbled something although I didn't take particular notice at the time if you know what I mean. But to cut a long story short" Miss Winder ended tamely, perhaps rather daunted by the degree the others were paying attention which possibly she was not always accustomed to receive, Miss Elaine Winder said "well anyway the lady was sozzled and Mummy who was in the doorway saw her trip over the rug later and be carried off. Properly-no I don't know it may have been rucked up and she'd caught her toe, I can't tell, wish you'd been there Derek, Lord I had a lousy time. I say are we going to dance after?"

THESE round tables were large enough to allow one couple to talk without the other hearing what passed.

Maybe it was on account of the champagne or possibly because Jane and John seemed to be rather wrapped up in one another but Dick Abbot said to Liz "I say you know but you look perfectly ravishing tonight."

"I do?"

"You certainly are."

"Well thanks very much Richard" she responded.

"Makes me feel so embarrassed talking about the younger generation in front of you" he continued. "Lord you're a part of 'em yet we go on as if you weren't there. Can't think what you must make of us."

"You're such a friendly person" Miss Jennings announced. "Richard I feel so at home with you!"

"You do? I'm honoured Liz. Nicest thing one can be told, that. But of course I haven't the airs and graces."

"I don't know what you mean by it! When I find a person's cosy that's all I ask. Because what are we here for? Life's not so wonderful surely that we can afford to miss any single chance-not to help the lame dog over a stile, I don't mean, it seems so disobliging to draw attention in that way somehow, I mean about being lame, as practi- cally no one ils except poor Arthur Morris; now where was I-oh yes What I'm trying to explain is we've each one of us simply got to stay careful for each other don't you feel or we're absolutely nothing, I mean lower than the lowest worm that crawls?"

"Always say must respect the next man or Richard you've had it."

"But I can't get the extraordinary phrase you used about your not having the social graces whatever that may add up to although I believe I understand quite well because of course real politeness which is only fellow feeling, isn't it, is no more than that; all I'm trying to say, you see is if a person's cosy it's perfection, true manners, what distinguishes us from animals."

"Jolly though when a cat curls up on one's knee."

"Yes and then they go spitting in each other's faces soon as the moon is up and they've found a brick wall. Oh one can't trust them Richard, that is what's so awful but you've only to look into their eyes don't you agree, just like goats?"

"Don't know, you know. I'm very partial to a cat."

"Well take birds then. What could be sweeter than a robin redbreast yet there's someone been studying them, did you read the book, and they're the fiercest things alive he says, would you believe it?"

"Jungle law" the man agreed.

"And some of these debs" she went on. "Since you were speaking of their generation weren't you? Why I could tell stories but I'm simply not that sort of person. With sleek heads and skins and no knowledge of the world, of how people can count to one another I mean-well some of them are no better than goats there you are, than farmyard goats."

"Remember I passed two common women once outside a pub and one said to the other 'you filthy Irish git.'"

"What's a git then?" she inquired.

"Goat" he replied.

"How truly curious" she agreed. "But you do see this my way?" she proceeded. "Oh Richard it is so rare to find a man who looks through the surface as you can, deep down to what really's there." She lowered her voice, glanced over to Jane and John still engrossed, in themselves then hitched her chair closer to Mr Abbot's. "Life" she continued "is not all going back on one's tracks, ferreting out old friends to have a cosy chat with, one simply can't forever be looking over a shoulder Richard to what's dead and gone. Such a blind view of life. No, you have to look forward, face the future whatever that may bring."

"No friend like an old friend" he claimed.

"You're not onto what I mean" she said. "Take John now. There are times I could shake him, just shake him. You know what they were once supposed to mean to one another and never will again those two well as if that wasn't enough he's always going back. He won't admit if you ask him but he's got an idea that once he's had anything in his life he's only to lift his voice to get that back once more and dear Jane's too sweet to let him see."

"Wonderful woman Jane."

"Isn't she?" Miss Jennings sighed. She drank down a full glass of wine. "Too sweet and wonderful. Sometimes. Any other woman would say 'Now look john dear I admit we once meant everything to each other and you practically broke your wife's heart over me, but all of it's been finished a long time now, happened many lovers' moons ago and can't come to life again, these little things never do.'"

"I say Liz you know, none of my business" Mr Abbot warned.

"But what does she say?" his companion continued. "Jane's forever calling Penelope 'her little saint' but Jane is the saint if you get me or isn't she?"

"Oh a saint yes undoubtedly."

"How can Jane put up with him in one of those moods! Now I, I think it's bad for John all this rehashing of what's dead and gone, I try to take his mind off which is the reason I'm such a good influence. I truly am the man's guardian angel."

"Tremendously lucky fellow."

"Not but what it can't be a great strain at times" she murmured with a tragic expression. "No one in the whole wide world can have the least idea. I get the feeling occasionally, oh to tell the utter truth because I know you are like the grave it is more than that, I wouldn't say quite often but continually I have to lug poor John back to the present by main force and I'm not very strong. It wears me out."

"Shouldn't let yourself get upset like this, a splendid little woman like you young enough to be his daughter."

"I suppose it's like so many men" she gave judgment aloud "who imagine no girl can look at a male older than herself. But you're wrong, think of history, anything! As a matter of fact to tell you a little secret about me which I truly trust you not to breathe, I've always been attracted to older men."

"Have you by Jove!"

"Yes, isn't that strange. But I don't like little old men, they have to be great big hussars if they are older. So now yon know!"

"Not for me" he said. "I go for the young ones."

"Oh no you can't mean little girls" she cried. "Pigtails and tunics!"

"l say what must you think Liz" he expostulated. "Nothing of the sort. I should hope not. No to tell the truth it's young women of your age, young 'but old enough to be women if you get what I mean."

"Jane" she enthusiastically cried "Richard's just paid me the sweetest compliment! He's said what he likes about me is I'm young but with all the allure of experience!!"

"My dear how clever of Richard" Mrs Weatherby dryly rejoined.

"No not all that" Miss Jennings appealed to the wine waiter who was filling her glass to the brim once more only she didn't lift it to stop him. Mr Pomfret slightly raised his eyebrows, then Jane and he descended back into their own conversation.

"But I think it's one of the nicest things have ever been said to me" she purred at Mr Abbot" I feel just like one of your cats when you've given her cream."

"True right enough" he stoutly averred.

"It had the ring of truth" Miss Jennings said. "Everything you say has, I think that's my real reason why I like you so. You're such a wonderfully honest person Richard."

"Can't understand people saying what they don't mean. Doesn't make sense."

"And honest about yourself" she continued "which is the rarest thing in the world, pure gold."

IT WAS almost as if, in time, the party had leaped forward between those mirrors, so much had been recorded only to be lost, so much champagne had been consumed while, as day passes over a pond, no trace was left in any of their minds, or hardly none, just the vague memory of friendly weather, a fading riot of June stayed perhaps in their throats as the waiters withdrew though three or four remained to serve coffee, brandy and port.

This was the moment chosen by Philip Weatherby to make his empty tumbler ring to a stroke of the knife, to rise with one hand of Mary's in his own while she stayed seated, to look so white as he examined the guests from the advantage he had taken, that of surprise and the five foot ten of height.

"Oh the dear boy" his mother said to John Pomfret. "He's going to propose my health, or so I do believe the saint."

"I-ah-er" her son began while Miss Pomfret squeezed Philip's fingers.

"But who put it in his sweet head?" Mrs Weatherby asked entranced. "Darling was this your idea?" she demanded and had no answer.

"I-well you see-that is-" Mr Weatherby began again while all the older people looked up at him with smiling faces, with that kind of withdrawn encouragement we use by which to judge how much better we could do this sort of thing ourselves, and Jane beamed as if in a seventh heaven. "Ladies and gentlemen" he tried once more "we are here tonight to celebrate my twenty-firster." He now started to speak very fast. "My mother which is kind of her gave this party" he went on "and I'm sure we've all very much enjoyed things, the festive occasion and so on, but Mary and I thought now or never which is why we want to announce that we're engaged."

He sat down. A hum of fascinated comment was direefed like bees to honey in his direction. Mary hardly glanced at her father but darted quick looks about the room while Jane turned to John Pomfret, one hand pressed to the soft mound above her heart and hissed, "Is this your doing? Did you know of it?"

"Good God good for them. First I've heard" he said.

"Oh my dear" she cried "I feel faint."

Not that Mr Pomfret appeared to pay heed. A pale smile was stuck across his face while he looked about as though to receive tribute. But the attention of almost everyone in that room was still fixed on the awkward happy couple, and Elaine Winder smacked their backs and generally behaved as if she were in at a kill.

"Oh my dear" Mrs Weatherby groaned rising majestically from her place.

This movement repeated a thousand thousand times on every side brought each one of those present to his or her feet, except at Philip's table where they sat on transfixed in their moment and Miss Winder's exuberance. Mr Pomfret stood up also. As Jane began to make her way towards Mary he followed and the guests started clapping.

A naturally graceful woman, Mrs Weatherby was superb while she crossed the room afloat between one tall mirror and the other, a look of infinite humility on her proud features. The occasion's shock and excitement had raised her complexion to an even brighter glow, a magnificent effulgence of what all felt she must feel at this promise of grandsons and, at that, from the daughter of what most of them knew to be an old flame with whom she had continued the best of old friends.

Tears stood in many eyes. Some men even cheered discreetly.

And when Jane came to their table she folded Mary Pomfret into so wonderful an embrace while the child half rose from her chair to greet it that not only was the girl's hair not touched or disarranged in this envelopment, but as Mrs Weatherby took the young lady to her heart it must have seemed to most the finest thing they had ever seen, the epitome of how such moments should be, perfection in other words, the acme of manners, and memorable as being the flower, the blossoming of grace and their generation's ultimate instinct of how one should ideally behave.

Mr Pomfret pumped Philip's hand.

Jane was whispering to Mary, "Oh aren't you clever not to have said a word, you clever darling."

One or two of the male guests called for a speech.

Mrs Weatherby disengaged herself with infinite gentleness, held her future daughter-in-law at arm's length as a judge holds a prize lily at the show, then turned to Philip, She leaned forward offering a cheek. When he pecked this once, she did not push it smartly back at him. She held firm while John kissed his daughter on the chino Next she linked arms with both the intended while Mr Pomfret hung at the edge. A fresh storm of clapping greeted this group and now most of the men called for a speech.

Mrs Weatherby nodded like royalty right and left. She wore what might have been called a brave little smile.

But once the appeals for her to say a few words with many a "yes do darling" from the ladies, the moment this clamour grew too insistent Jane whispered to Philip and, with an arm still under Mary's she walked through the uproar back to her table. Philip and John followed each with a chair. It was noticeable how frightened the girl looked, as was perhaps only natural.

Liz kissed the four of them in turn, the applause rose to a crescendo, and the family group, if Miss Jennings could be said to be of the family, sat down. Once they were all seated it was seen that Richard Abbot had effaced himself, had joined Elaine Winder and her young man at their table where, however, he was now without a chair. This a wine waiter fetched him.

John was first to speak.

" Champagne" he cried to another servant. "We must all have a toast."

"My dear tlhe bill!" Jane said in a low voice.

"Oh will you eve forgive us?" his daughter tremulously asked.

"This is on me" Mr Pomfret explained. "Bring the champagne glasses back" he ordered. "Order another dozen bottles. We shall have to toast 'em" he shouted to the room. Cries of "Good old John" greeted his yell. One of the male guests, rather drunk, seemed about to become dazed.

"Oh my God where's Richard?" Mrs Weatherby demanded in the same low tones.

"He's sat himself down at our table Mamma."

"I still feel quite faint John."

"You'll be right as a trivet Jane when you've some more wine" Mr Pomfret reassured. "You'll see if you aren't."

"But oh my dear aren't toasts so unlucky?"

"Well my boy your mother's a bit bowled over. Ah here we are, and fill them up. All round the room, mind! Now haven't you been a minx keeping this to yourself" he said to his daughter.

"Oh I did worry so" she cried to Jane. "But you see it was Philip's twenty-firster and people marry younger these days you know, if you see what I mean?"

Mr Pomfret rose to his feet.

"I'm going to ask you all to rise, be upstanding, and to-ah-lift your glasses and drink to-ah the happy couple."

Which, when done, set the party off again. And such a number of people came up to their table to offer con gratulations, to twit Jane with not having dropped the least hint, to kiss Mary and to slap John on the back, that it was not for some time later they were able to have private conversation.

WHEN they did find themselves alone once more at this table, John Pomfret incoherently took control.

"Well what's it to be?" he cried to the four of them.

"A white wedding Mary my Love with the old organ and a choir of course?"

"We hadn't got that far Daddy."

"But when, how soon? Now yon know the party we were to have, yon remember I told yon Jane, we'll make that into an engagement one, cocktails or something with the few intimate friends to stay over to dinner?"

"How wonderful for yon both" Liz cried. "What a bewitching minute this is!"

Jane smiled a trifle sadly, gazed at each in turn. "Isn't it?" she agreed with Miss Jennings. "So much in the one wonderful evening. Oh dear very soon i really quite simply believe I shall have to go home to my bed."

"Jane you'll do nothing of the kind" John Pomfret insisted. "Besides we none of us work tomorrow, we can lie in all day if we wish. It is a terrific occasion! I've been won dering the whole of my life what this moment would be like."

"Dear boy" Mrs Weatherby said to Philip but in tragic tones as she laid a white hand on his arm "if you only knew how your poor mother had dreamed and prayed, yes prayed!"

"But where are you proposing to set up house?" John demanded.

"We haven't actually discussed that have we Philip?" The young man did not answer, moistened his lips with a tongue.

"When I went to see Arthur Morris he told me once he was out of the clinic the doctors had advised him to get away in the country. So his flat at least will be on the market." Miss Jennings suggested.

"Good Lord Liz poor old Arthur has three whole rooms. They'd never be able to afford it."

"The sweet things mustn't start life in too big a little way" Mrs Weatherby approved. She gave her son's arm a squeeze. The young couple frowned what could have been a warning at one another.

"Bless me I don't know when anything ever before in all my time has given me such a crazy lift" the father exclaimed. "Who's to be best man Philip?"

"I couldn't say I'm sure."

"And the bridesmaids Mary?" John Pomfret insisted. "We'll have to be very careful there you know. Of course Liz here must be chief one. You'll do that won't you Liz?"

"Oh John dear you are sweet but you should be serious once in a while" Mrs Weatherby interrupted dolefully and fast. "He simply doesn't understand about these things" she explained to Miss Jennings then seemed to catch herself up. "Oh goodness listen to me" she laughed "the interfering mother-in-law just like you hear about all the time! No John the darlings will have to settle that for themselves."

"I'm too. old" Miss Jennings wailed. "Besides poor Liz's been bridesmaid so often. And I always seem to bring such rotten bad luck. They invariably divorce after I've been in the aisle."

"But now we are on the subject" Jane announced "Philip I'm certain your father would've liked you to hold the wedding under our rose window, darling, if he were alive. I know we have practically no connection with the village now but in a way it's still our very own precious church. I shall be buried outside under the yew by his side, I've put that in my little will." She brushed at her eyes with a handkerchief.

"Now Jane" Mr Pomfret expostulated "this is no time to speak of mourning, top hats and sidebands. What next good God? But where are you choosing for the honeymoon?"

"We hadn't quite got round to that yet either" Mary answered.

"Well you haven't thought of much then have you?" he said.

"Really John" Liz exclaimed. "When you're in love you can't make plans about one's plans." She drank another full glass down.

"I don't know when else you plot things out" he replied in obvious delight.

"John" Mrs Weatherby cried. "You're a changed creature! I hardly think that's quite nice do you darling?" and she turned to Liz.

"He's so thrilled" Miss Jennings explained.

"No but to talk of children, nurseries and so on at such a moment-why my dear you'll be positively indecent in a second!"

Philip Weatherby stifled a yawn.

"Who said a word about nasty sprawling brawling brats Jane?" John Pomfret demanded.

"You did. my dear" she said in a dry voice. "Not more than a minute ago. Didn't he darling?" she asked of Liz.

"It's all sho wonderful I don't know whether I'm on my head or my toesh" this lady explained.

"All right then we'll hold a ball, a dance."

"John there's so much to discuss" Jane said.

"I realize you'll say I'm crazy me dear" Mr Pomfret said to his daughter "but ever since you were grown up I've wondered what it would be like talking over marriage settlements with a middle-aged stranger and as I've often told you there's so little in the old kitty that I thought I'd have to take your future father-in-law out and make him drunk. And now good Lord it's going to be Jane that I've known all me life. I can't get over it."

"John do behave yourself" Mrs Weatherby sadly smiled.

"Well we shall be bound to have a chat one of these days won't we Jane?" he demanded.

"I expect you'll know where to find me" she replied and Miss Jennings winced, only she did so very slowly.

"But we shan't want any money" Miss Pomfret claimed with a weak show of determination.

"Nonsense monkey everybody does" her father said.

"Then hadn't you better discuss it with me?" Mr Weatherby asked.

"Philip darling do think before you speak like that." Jane cried.

"Well but you're a woman after all Mamma."

"And I should hope so too indeed. No but your Daddy and I will have to have a little talk shan't we you angelic creature" his mother proposed to Mary with some firmness.

"Of course Mrs Weatherby I'm sure Philip never meant-"

"Now who are you 'Mrs Weatherbying' dear? And you're never to call me 'Mother' because I would simply rather die that's all" she laughed. "You do agree with me don't you Liz? John you'd never like Philip to call you 'Father'?"

Mr Weatherby began to show signs of distress. Before he could open his mouth Jane went on rather fast and anxiously.

"No it's all Christian names these days isn't that so and very sensibly too in my opinion. Anything to do away with the gulf between generations. Oh whenever will these sweet tiresome guests of mine drag themselves off to bed at last. John it's been such a day and a half and I'm so tired!"

"Bed? You think of bed on a night like this?"

"I truly am so tired John dear!!"

"Well I feel I could go on somewhere. What d'you say Liz?"

"Can Philip and I drop you back?"

"I can't very well go before the people I've invited can I?" Mrs Weatherby answered Mary in a sharp tone of voice. "Oh do you think I could send for the bill?"

"Really Jane" Mr Pomfret protested. "You'd never hear the last if you did."

She looked round the noisy party, the people who went from table to table with laughing flushed faces.

"They wouldn't notice you'd hardly think?" she hazarded.

"Shall I get hold of Richard?" Miss Jennings volunteered.

"Perhaps he could go tactfully round, Liz, to drop a word here and there but not so much that anyone would actually realize."

"No no both of you" John said. "Jane can't break up her own party."

"I don't know" Mr Weatherby suggested "but Mary and I don't feel quite as if we wanted to go home yet. And if we went on somewhere it might start the others off."

"Of course you darlings want to be alone. Oh don't I remember! And who wouldn't!! But Richard has most cruelly deserted me all evening."

"I shouldn't wonder he just found he couldn't intrude" John explained.

"Then you maintain I should have gone to that beastly bitch's daughter's table" Liz almost shouted. She seemed to have difficulty focusing her eyes.

"My dear Liz" he replied with gentleness "I regard you almost as one of the family."

"Thanks" she said and appeared to subside. "Okay" she said.

"A woman needs another by her at a time like this" Mrs Weatherby murmured.

"Well, parents" Philip began. "What say if we simply pushed off?"

"Certainly not" Jane sharply reproved him. "Not now you're the guests of the evening. And before this surprise started it was your twent-firster after all. Please remember, if only to please me please remember that!"

"Why of course" Mary Pomfret agreed and seemed most nervons. "We wouldn't dream of the slightest things-"

"Hm-m" Mrs Weatherby replied. "That's settled then."

"You know Mary" her father pronounced "this is a great moment in a woman's life. Yon must be extra nice with Jane, it has quite bowled her over."

"But I am Daddy."

"Of course you are you angel" the older woman agreed.

"Now John don't butt in between, we shall manage our own affairs perfectly shan't we dear? Still I can't tell why all these people shouldn't go. I really feel I almost hardly know them now. I'm so tired don't you understand John? No of course you two must stay at least for the present, dreadfully dull as it must be for you both. I've such a tearlng headache. God what a day!"

"Anything I can do Mamma?"

"Just don't let poor darling Penelope the little saint into this secret, promise me will you?! know her better than anyone in the whole wide world but even I couldn't tell what the results might be now, I wouldn't dare."

"I say, she could be one of our bridesmaids" Philip said.

"I should hope so indeed" his mother took him up. "If not then I can't possibly imagine who else. And when we've just got her over the man in chains down at Brighton! Oh my dear if you didn't ask the child why she'd simply rather die."

"Well it's not exactly secret now is it Mamma?"

"But we must break it gently don't you understand" his mother answered. "We've had this wedding trouble before with the sainted little sweet. Oh I blame myself but really John wasn't it wicked of you and now only four months later we're to go through this all over again! And when I told her the facts of life a year back, she was just five and a half then, will you believe me but she's forgotten every word, she must have done from what the little angel's said lately. Oh isn't parenthood confusing! I always tell these girls when they get engaged they simply can't guess what they're in for." At which she gaily laughed "Now there I go again" she went on, beaming at Mary "I do declare I'd quite forgotten for the second. What will you think of me? Oh Philip your stupid Mamma!"

"When they began giving sex instruction at Council schools" Philip told them "there was a woman wrote to say the lesson had taken ninety minutes each week off her daughter's mathematics and surely maths must be more important."

"My dear boy" Mrs Weatherby approved "that was almost witty."

"Good for you Philip!" Mr Pomfret said. "Well then mum's the word where Pen's concerned eh?"

"Yes, you must all and every one of you promise me faithfully" Jane agreed. "In fact the less spoken about this secret engagement the better, so it doesn't get to her sacred little ears poor soul."

LATER on, when John Pomfret's excitement drove him to circulate among the other tables with Liz and Mary in tow, Richard Abbot came back to his rightful place at Jane's left hand.

"Where have yon been?" the lady cried. "And what d'you mean by it just when I wanted you!"

"Family matter I, thought. Felt an outsider!"

"Well Liz didn't did she? She stayed. Oh Richard you let me down at times of crisis."

"Now my dear this's been a great day for all. Only natural to be overwrought a bit."

"Oh I am" she wailed, her large eyes even more enormous. "Don't you think Richard you could persuade them all to go so I can get home to bed?"

"My dear Jane, can't do that! Let me fetch you a black coffee."

"In a moment. No, sit here" and she patted the chair next her. "Oh Richard I'm worried about little Penelope. You remember how she was after she imagined she'd married John? Well what will it be like when she realizes her brother has got engaged to what she must truly believe to be her own stepdaughter, have you thought of that?"

"She'll have forgotten everything about it."

"But how can she, I ask you? Richard do concentrate, this is important to me. Her little sanity's at stake,"

"She'll have forgotten about that tomfoolery with John I meant."

"If you say so, then you pit yourself against the psychoanalyst. I asked Maud Winder's advice who'd such a lot of trouble with her girl at one time and I went to the best. He told me it might have bruised Pen's soul, he couldn't be sure he said until he had seen the child but I wouldn't allow that, don't you think I wasright, I mean one never knows where these clever famous men will end does one, playing politics with my own precious darling's very being, Richard."

"Don't hold with 'em myself."

"Yet I'm not trying to say the chief responsibility doesn't rest with me, it must of course, it always will, oh my dear the load devilish Providence has put on my poor bended back. No I have to guard her against her sweet self. And when she hears and starts one of her things the desperate brave little martyr, I shan't be able to turn everything off as I did to finish the escapist at Brighton by giving the child a bag she liked to hang from the elbow she would insist on holding. Still if I have to I shall think of a ruse, it's what I'm here for after all. But the strain Richard!"

"Shouldn't wonder if Philip's a bit worked up too eh?"

"Oh the boy's all right. Not normal of course but in absolutely no need of help I can tell you."

"Don't know Jane. Big moment in a young fellow's life, must be."

"How can you iudge? You yourself have simply never even risked it."

"Not from want of trying."

"My dear how utterly sweet you can be" she said. "In spite of this deplorable habit of yours of not being there when you're wanted. But don't you see Richard you're older, tougher. Oh dear have I been horrible, torturing you all this time?"

"If I were you I'd decide Penelope was all right for the moment and concentrate a bit on Philip."

"How can I make up my mind against my better judgment?"

"Then there's Mary to consider" he reminded Mrs Weatherby. "Tricky few days this in a girl's life, always will be. She'll need making a fuss over."

"Does one never have a rest?"

"You ought to have a man about to take some of the load off your shoulders."

"To put a greater weight on, you mean! Oh I didn't intend to be beastly, you must believe. But I'm at my wit's end Richard."

LATER still Philip and Mary made good their escape, got away to a nightclub.

"Well" he said "I told you! It went quite all right."

"Oh Philip darling" she cried above but somehow under the music so that she sounded hoarse "they'll never let us marry, I know they won't, isn't it awful!"

"But see here" he objected "everything worked like a dream. I swear this was the only way to deal with my mother. I learned by watching Pen as a matter of fact. When she wants whatever it may be she just takes it; as soon as she feels ill she doesn't just say she feels something coming on, she is ill and Mamma loves the whole business."

"We should've got married first. There's what we ought to have told them, not that we were only engaged."

"I know but it's so rude to the relations when people elope."

"Yes you're right" she gulped.

"And then eloping's out of date, it went out with horses."

"Oh dear now they're all eaten poor things."

"Too many people on this island keep carnivorous pets Mary" he replied. "The waste is fearful."

"But what happens next Philip?"

"With our parents? Well you know how it is. They'll argue, there'll be no end to the amount they're sure to squawk which they'll love. And Mamma wilt weep once or twice and your father will act pretty idiotically for quite a time."

"Don't say anything against Daddy darling, please."

"Okay then lay off Mamma."

"What d'you mean, I haven't said a word about her!"

"It was just I thought you seemed a bit unenthusiastic when you made out she'd try and stop us."

"I said 'they.' I didn't say anything against her."

"Well who is 'they' in that case?"

"All of them."

"But look here it passed off awfully well didn't it? I mean they seemed overjoyed to me. As a matter of fact I thought my speech went rather grandly didn't you?"

"Oh you were wonderful darling" she warmly assured him. "Heavens though I do feel I've been put through a mangle."

"Poor sweet" he said and squeezed the hot hand he was holding. "Shall we dance?"

They danced. Eyes closed, cheek to cheek, better than ever before. When they had had enough for a time they came back to their table.

"That's the way to do the rumba" she told him. "See that man on the left, how he makes the girl go round while he stays in the centre."

"Should I do that with you?"

"Of course darling."

"I doubt if I ever shall be able."

"Then take lessons silly."

"I say" he said "you do feel better now, you must?"

"I think, yes."

"Can't you find out yes or no."

"But no one can. First something inside says everything is fine" she wailed "and the next moment it tells you that something which overshadows everything else is very bad just like an avalanche!"

"I'm so sorry" he said "I truly am."

They danced again and again until, as the long night went on they had got into a state of unthinking happiness perhaps.

A week later Mrs Weatherby asked John Pomfret to dinner.

"And how is dear Liz?" she inquired as she brought the man a glass of sherry. "Quite well I trust."

"Aren't you seeing so much of her now then John?"

"But of course" he said. "The fact is this news about our respective children has rather thrown me out of my normal gait."

"So it's become a question of striding between you and Liz" Mrs Weatherby commented. Her look on him over the decanter was one of sweet compassion. "Oh my dear" she continued "you must be careful. Don't let it end as our love did in great country walks."

"Really Jane when do I ever get away?" he cried. "All my work in town here, and now this engagement! Philip and Mary are going to keep us pretty well occupied you know. Lot to arrange and so on."

"I'm sure" she agree. "Just sit back and relax."

"And how is little Penelope?" he inquired.

She made a beautiful flowing gesture of resignation. "Oh my dear" she said. "Sometimes I bless Providence I have a man Eke you can share my problems."

"Isn't Richard much use then?"

"I don't know what I should do without him but he has that failing John of the absolutely true, true to one I mean, of being almost completely unimaginative poor dear."

Mr Pomfret laughed. "I see" he said. "Sometimes I have just wondered what you found in Richards."

"Loyalty" she breathed and smoothed her skirts.

"Which you never came across in me?"

"Don't let's rake up the past darling. What's overs over."

"Enough's enough you mean?"

She let out a gentle peal of laughter, leaning back on the sofa.

"Oh John aren't you horrid!" she cried.

"Good sherry you have here" he said.

"I'm so glad you say that. Ned makes me go to his man and I wouldn't know."

"While Maud Winder sends you to her psychologist about Penelope?"

"No but John who told? Oh don't people talk!"

"You yourself did."

"I'd quite forgot. No one must know darling, it would be unfair on my sad longsuffering angel. Who'd want to marry a girl later who'd been analysed?"

"Would it make any difference?"

"Who can tell my dear? It might quite disgust Pen with all that side of life. So you won't breathe a word John will you? Besides I never did let him set his terrible hypnotizing eyes on her, no I guard my poppet too well for that. The thing is, she's heard!"

"Heard what?"

"Why that they're secretly engaged."

"There's not so much secret now surely after the public announcement? It must be all over London."

"But we've put no announcement in the press yet have we John?"

"That's just one of the matters I wanted to have a word about."

"Yes there's so much to discuss" she sighed.

"Then you don't think Penelope ought to be a bridesmaid? Overexcite her or something?"

"My dear one she'd simply die as things are if Mary didn't ask her. It was Isabella. Penelope absolutely jabbers in Italian now, so wonderful, while I can still hardly put two words together. And you see I don't understand what they say all the time. I spent hours with the dictionary to warn the woman not to breathe a word." Mrs Weatherby merrily laughed. "I must have looked a sight poring over it and in the end perhaps I said the opposite, as one does, even gave her orders to tell Penelope at once. Oh John what it is not to understand a syllable of one's only servant's beastly tongue. But the child knows, she babbles of the wedding all day and I'm afraid for her."

"You know Jane" Mr Pomfret interrupted "I think I'm going to grow very fond of Phillip."

"I should hope so too. He's such a splendid bull of a boy."

"I seem to have got really far with him the last few days."

"What d'you talk to him about? My brother-in-law?"

Mr Pomfret appeared to ignore the dryness of her tone. He was peering at thc sherry in his glass.

"We shall make friends. I always wanted a son" he said.

"I'd so like to give Mary just a touch of advice about her clothes" Jane suggested in a small voice.

"Then we seem ideally suited as in-laws." Mr Pomfret laughed. "Though you must not mind if the girl has thoughts of her own; she can be very pigheaded about dresses I believe."

"Why how d'you mean John?"

"Liz took her around the various establishments some time back and didn't get her own way much so I understand."

"But isn't that natural? You can hardly say darling Liz has any taste at all."

"l never notice what a woman wears. Liz always looks very nice and neatly turned out to me."

Mrs Weatherby smiled.

"Neat is not quite the word!"

"Well for the matter of that l'd like five minutes with Philip about the cut of his jib."

"He goes to the best tailors."

"It's his hats dear Jane."

"He's never bareheaded is he? I should hate him to be."

"So wide-brimmed."

"Now John you're not to put the poor boy into one of those bowler things or I'll never speak to you again."

"Do you notice what men are wearing?"

"Of course."

"Then did I get the suit I have on now from off a hook or was it made for me?"

"You ask me that when you wouldn't know if I was in one of my beloved mother's Ascot dresses this minute!"

"What tailor does Philip patronize?"

"His awful uncle's."

"Well of course I haven't the advantage of knowing your brother-in-law well enough to have been acquainted with his cutter."

"It's Highcliffe I believe, in that little passage off the Arcade."

"Never heard of the man." There was a pause. Then Mr Pomfret went on "What made Philip choose Ned Weatherby's man?"

"Family reasons. Philip feels all men who are closely related should go to the same place for everything."

"That's what must lead one to think he's in livery then."

"But John the boy never wears striped waistcoats."

"We shall have to change all of it Jane. Who'd you say your winemerchant was?"

"Ned's."

"Curious. Remind me to ask you the address sometime. So has Philip gone traditional with the tradespeople? Can't say I remember anything of the sort in my family."

"Then you've forgotten your Aunt Eloise."

"What about her?"

"Wasn't it she who insisted on everyone getting everything on the route served by such and such a bus?"

"Extraordinary memory you have Jane. Whenever did I tell you that?"

"On one of those despairingly long walks you took me dear."

They both laughed. There was a short pause.

"Well I think all this business is rather marvellous" he began again. "It's given me a new lease of life Jane. Takes me back to the days we were walking out! I'm sure I couldn't think of anyone more perfect for Mary than your Philip."

"What a sweet sentimental person you can be" she replied. "I believe most men are."

"No seriously" he said. "it's all I could've wished."

"I never imagined, who would, I mean think of you and me sitting here like this after all that's happened, and in a discussion how we're to become related by the back door so to speak!"

"Not at all" he objected. "The main entrance."

"D'you really think so? Don't you find your children, your own girl, so remote?"

"Why should I Jane?"

"But Mary's a gift!"

"And what difference does sex bring to the relationship?"

"You see I'm forever making allowances for Philip because he's a man" she explained. "And the more so by reason of my not having a husband any longer of course. It's the same with you John. If you were married now you'd be so greatly critical, no not that, shall I say choosy about Mary."

"Would I?"

"Well I mean about her clothes and everything."

"Why?"

"Because you'd get some advice I suppose. I'm sure I don't know. What d'you expect me to say?"

"I couldn't tell you Jane" he said smiling, and seemed very comfortable in the chair with his sherry.

"I hope Isabella's not to be late again like she was last time, or is each time if I'm not to tell a lie" Mrs Weatherby said. "Supposing I shouted to her in the kitchen?"

"I'm quite all right. Never been more comfortable in my life."

"Well you did arrive a weeny bit early didn't you? The thing is, as I've already explained, ever since she told darling Pen all about the secret engagement I've been terrified to say much to Isabella in ease unbeknownst I'm telling the woman the opposite. Never mind, I expect we can wait a bit. Then are you quite easy in your heart of hearts about Mary, and Philip?"

"My dear" he said "I can't remember when I've been more pleased."

"It just crossed my mind, only a moment ago to tell the truth, John I have almost wondered and you are the one person in the world to whom I'd bring myself to mention this, but don't you feel they both might be rather young?"

"Young? My dear girl what age were you when you married?"

"Eighteen months younger than your lovely Mary I know, oh I know!" she cried. "Still wouldn't you agree we were different then?"

"Different? In what way?" An edge had come onto his voice.

"It's so difficult to look back to those golden wonderful days" she moaned, "to fed back to how we felt then! t don't know but I sometimes think I was simply insane marrying when I did so I missed all my fun."

"Nonsense my dear" Mr Pomfret said firmly. "You never lived until you met me and that was years later."

"Oh why didn't I wait?" she murmured gently with a brilliant flattering smile full on him. "That was when I made the greatest mistake. And how about you? What d'you think?"

"Me? Oh I've been an absolute fool all me life."

"There's not many would say that about you John. But if we were complete idiots is there any reason why we should let the children fall into the selfsame trap?"

"Yes Jane and who's to stop 'em?"

"Ah" she said "ah! Yet these runaway affairs?" she hazarded.

"That's what I like about our two. They haven't eloped."

"Not yet, sweet Providence forbid!"

"My dear" he remonstrated. "I say nothing against Mary when I tell you she is far too level-headed. And Philip would be frightened of what his uncle's tradesmen might find to say."

She narrowed her great eyes.

"John" she warned him "that's not funny!"

"Have I said something?" he exclaimed with what seemed to be genuine innocence. "Look here I do apologize. Now that the children have got engaged I suppose I'm wallowing in intimacy, there you are, thinking out loud no end of ill-considered things. There's been so little time to adjust oneself has there?"

"No no" she agreed "I was only being absurd for a minute and ridiculously touchy. Forgive me dear John! Oh yes it has all been hasty quick hasn't it?"

"Then you really think they're too young though you admit there's very little we can do and that we married younger?"

"But John we had money. It didn't have to be love in a cottage for us."

"Quite out of date nowadays" he laughed. "Most expensive things in the world, cottages! It's the old garret for the nonce all right."

"And can you see Philip in one?"

"No Jane to tell the honest truth I can't, yet that's Mary's affair I suppose? And then I imagine you and I'll be able to help a little."

Mrs Weatherby covered her face with her fat white fingers in rings.

"Oh there you go" she moaned "and I've been dreading it all evening! I shall have to see Mr Thicknesse which, I do terribly tremble at always!! I'm such an absolute fool over money matters John!"

" Thicknesse the family Oliver Twist?!"

"Yes the lawyer. You remember him" she said, still from behind her hands but in a stronger tone. "Never had dealings with the man myself."

"But you did. When we were wickedly threatened with cross divorces." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Don't tell me you've forgotten even that?"

"Oh old Thicknesse" he cried cheerfully. "Yes I've got him now right enough. Lord I'm sorry for anyone who has to call on that fellow! And you say he's still alive when a fine chap thirty years younger like poor old Arthur Morris lies dying in bed?"

"No don't" she wailed. "No one, simply no one is to mention Arthur again in my presence! I told Penelope. I forbade her."

"Yes I expect you'll have to call on Master Thicknesse. Unless you'd rather I went?"

"Oh well wouldn't that look rather queer?" she cried, lowered the hands from her face and looked at Mr Pomfret with a tiny smile at the corners of those magnificent eyes. "Besides I'm afraid it may turn out to be quite like those Egyptian tombs they're always finding and are so proud of, quite empty, robbed."

"You mean the sly old devil's got away with some?"

"Mr Thicknesse?" she gasped and actually glanced over a shoulder. "Hush my dear, do think what you're saying!"

John roared with laughter, put his drink down, even leaned right back to let himself go. She caught the infection, or seemed to, and soon in her turn was dabbing at her eyes.

"Darling" he brought out at last, a few tears about his cheekbones "you're wonderful! I don't know what I'd do without you!"

Mrs Weatherby stopped laughing at once.

"You've managed without someone an unconscionably long time John."

"Dear where do you get these long words suddenly?"

"My old governess" she replied in a tart voice. "What were we talking about?"

"Lord knows" he said. "That's the effect you have on me. I forget time and place."

"Then I don't." She gaily laughed. "And I think I know what it may be. Isabella must have misunderstood again and is waiting for us in the dining room. Let's go along, shall we, if only to try anyway?"

JOHN POMFRET invited Mr Abbot to have a bite to eat with him at the Club.

"I asked you to drop over because I'm worried in my mind to do, with this business about my Mary" he told Richard.

"Young love not running smooth eh?"

"I shouldn't say that for the simple reason that I've no means of finding out. They look happy enough bless 'em but they don't let on much. Tell you the truth I wanted to enlist your help with Jane."

"You've known her longest, John."

"I'd like to put the whole thing before you. Basically I think a man's no right to stand between his child and her happiness." He laughed. "Lord that sounds a pompous pronouncement but you follow what I mean? And it's damned hard to get down to arrangements with someone like Jane you've known all your life."

"Expect it may be" Mr Abbot agreed.

"Good, I thought you'd catch on. The fact is I've been uncommonly careful not to rush Jane in any shape or form and then this week the summons I'd been awaiting came and she asked me round to dinner. Well we did have a bit of a chat while that Italian woman of hers kept us hanging on for the meal but I can't say we got anywhere with it. After we'd sat down to eat and later back in her room again it was hardly mentioned; to tell the truth we got laughing over old days and there you are."

"Wonderful food Jane gives one. Can't imagine how she does it these days."

Mr Pomfret turned on Richard Abbot a long considering look.

"Food's not been too bad in the Club lately" he said at last. "Richard are you with me about ali this?"

"Completely ignorant of the whole issue" Mr Abbot answered.

"Well I can't promise there is an issue" John pointed out. "Only perhaps that Jane doesn't seem wildly keen on the engagement. It's not so much what she puts into words as everything she doesn't mention and for somebody who's never been exactly silent all her life that may or may not be significant. How do you weigh things up?"

"She might be a trifle upset about Penelope?"

"I know but don't you think Pen's often a blind, Richard? Doesn't Jane use the child as a shield?"

"She has no need that I can see."

"Of course not" Mr Pomfret concurred. "Never met anyone better able to look after herself than Jane."

"Wonderful manager. Marvellous party she gave!"

"Superb. A trifle unfortunate though the way the children brought their marriage in."

"As a matter of fact I a bit felt that" Mr Abbot agreed. "When all's said and done it was Jane's show. Speaking as Philip did he stole the thunder considerably or so I fancied."

"Wasn't it his twenty-firster?"

"May have been" Richard Abbot admitted. "But a mother has the right to celebrate having raised her own son to man's estate surely?"

"Admitted" John allowed him. "All the same we celebrated by ourselves didn't we when you and I ceased to be minors?"

"No doubt Philip did so."

"I fancy they're a bit short, wouldn't run to two entertainments. Who could these days?"

"Don't know at all. None of my business John."

There was another pause while Mr Pomfret studied Richard Abbot.

"D'you like Mary?" he asked at last. "Forget I'm her father. Well of course you can't. But tell me what I ought to do. They seem very much in love. I don't say I've been particularly keen on Philip in the past but Mary's chosen and that's good enough for me. Besides, now I've seen a bit more of him as one does on these occasions I find there's a lot in the boy. I'm not saying a word against Jane mind but he's missed having a man about the house. Have you run across him in one of his hats?"

"Bloody terrible. Don't speak of them."

"Aren't they?" Mr Pomfret agreed in a relieved sort of voice. "Later on I may be able to manage something about it. But are you on my side about those two or aren't you?"

"Not for me to take sides. You know Jane better than me John. Comparative newcomer is all I am."

"You'll excuse my saying this but you aren't. Why I hardly ever see old Jane now, and then only at the cost of a row each time with Liz. No, all I want is the children's happiness and how to get it, that's what I'm after."

"Won't they marry in spite of anything either of you may say?" Mr Abbot asked.

"Of course Richard. Simply I'd like to avoid the sort of unpleasantness which could follow, shortage of cash, no help from Jane because she's been rushed or feds hurt, the hundred and one things to dog them once they're back from the honeymoon"

"Don't ask me how Jane's fixed for money."

"Which is not the point with great respect old man. There's every kind of support Jane can bring if she wishes. But look here if she didn't agree" Mr Pomfret pointed out "matters might go sour, all sorts of awful things, trouble and so on. Oh we shall be out of it right enough, you and I. I'm thinking of Mary."

"Grandchildren do the trick d'you consider?"

"Well naturally. Still supposing there aren't any at first. And how can anyone carry it off in a single room, if they have to live in the beginning with practically no more than a single room, and on what they earn?"

"As I know Jane she'd never resist a baby" Mr Abbot said.

"But good God Richard have they to breed like rabbits to get recognition?"

"They've always got you haven't they?"

"What's the use? I've no money left! Who has?"

"Well thank God I'm not in your shoes."

"It's not as bad as that is it Richard? D'you mean you think Jane actually opposes the idea?"

"Me? How should I know? She doesn't discuss anything with me, good God no. Damned if I can say what I'd advise."

"You don't sound very cheerful old man I must say."

"It's like this John" Mr Abbot explained "and by the way I wouldn't care for anyone to know what I'm going to tell you now. The fact is Jane and I may see a bit of one another from time to time but she doesn't confide in me, never has. Damned self-reliant woman in my opinion Jane and always was."

"I don't know I ever found her any different" Mr Pomfret agreed. "So you can't say what she's driving at?"

Richard Abbot considered his host in a long expressionless stare.

"D'you suppose Jane knows herself?" he asked in the end. "Probably got a violent sensationalism over this marriage business. Expect she'll hide it under sweetness and light if you follow me. Then when she's ready" and Mr Abbot jerked his hands up from his knees "out it will all come. lust like that."