'My dear, I can't tell you how glad I am,' and Lady Dadford bustles across the room to the sofa where Mabel is reposing, 'Where is the sweet girl?'
'Philippa? she is out now,' replies Mrs Seaton, 'but I expect she will be in soon.'
'Well, if I may, I should like to stay and see her,' says the old lady, 'but you are sure I shall not be tiring you; directly you feel you have had enough of me, say so, won't you?'
Mabel laughs and replies, 'I shall like you to stay very much, you have not seen baby yet; we cannot settle on a name. I should like it to be called Lilian, but both George and Lippa say it would be unlucky; he, you know, always hopes we may find her again.'
'And yourself, dear?' asks Lady Dadford.
'I think I have almost given up hope now. You know the body of a little child was found in a river, not far from L—— (where we were living then) and it answered so much to the description of Lilian; she was such a dear little thing. It is worse than if she had died at home and ...'
'Yes, yes, I understand,' says Lady Dadford, 'but I would not give up hope quite. I agree with the old proverb, "Hope on, hope ever," you know. But tell me about Philippa? very happy, I suppose.'
'Perfectly happy,' replies Mabel. 'I can't imagine her as a wife, she's such a child, but Jimmy is sure to take great care of her, and she has come into some money by her mother's death.'
'Ah yes! it must have been a very happy release, a very happy release,' and Lady Dadford shakes her head gravely. 'Did the dear child ever know anything about it?'
'Yes, she overheard you talking to me that day in the summer, when we went for a picnic, and she foolishly never said a word about it, but made up her mind that she could not marry anyone, because she might go out of her mind, so she refused Jimmy at first, and all this time she has been making both him and herself miserable.'
'Miserable, who is miserable?' asks Lippa, coming in followed by Dalrymple.
'No one, I hope,' says he, 'ah, Lady Dadford,' he continues on catching sight of her, 'how do you do?'
'Better, thank you,' she replies, she always makes a point of answering that foolish question, and invariably does so by saying 'Better'—she has been better for so long that she must have reached a most perfect state of health by now. 'Really much better; I came here to congratulate you: Lippa, my dear, you cannot think how pleased I am,' this accompanied by a kiss.
Lippa cannot think of anything to say and therefore remains silent.
'Anne would have come with me,' rattles on the old lady, 'she sent you all sorts of messages, but she had to go to a cooking class, and she felt sure you would understand that it was a case of duty before pleasure.'
'I shouldn't have thought it was a duty for a Marquis' daughter to learn cooking,' thinks Jimmy and something in the merriment depicted in his eyes causes Philippa to cast a reproachful glance at him, and then to enter heart and soul into the question of the use of cooking classes; it is some time before the old lady rises to depart, and then, of course, Mabel thinks it necessary that the baby should be visited so they mount to the nursery.
'Well, and what was the cause of the withering glance you directed at me about ten minutes ago?' asks Dalrymple, when they are left alone, Lippa and he.
'You know quite well,' she replies, removing her boa and settling herself comfortably before the fire, her feet resting on the fender.
'I declare I do not,' says Dalrymple, regardless of speaking the truth, for he loves to see Lippa indignant.
'More shame for you then, but you know quite well, you were laughing at Lady Dadford, and what's worse you tried to make me, I hope you are not in the habit of laughing at people, are you? Because if you are I shall certainly not'—
'What?'
'Marry you.'
'Will you throw me over a second time; you will soon become expert at it?'
'Jimmy,' cries she, 'how can you talk like that.'
'You suggested it first,' says he.
'I said so conditionally.'
'Yes, and that was that I must not smile at anybody, and suppose I cannot help it, it being my nature to do so?'
Miss Seaton looks up at him and says, 'I sha'n't marry you, that's all'
'All,' repeats he, 'it's a good deal, I don't know what you could call more.'
Lippa smiles. 'Oh you silly boy,' she says, 'you look as grave as a judge. Mabel, if she happened to come in, would think we had been quarrelling already.'
'Then you intend doing so later on?' queries he.
'Certainly; we should be very dull if we didn't, besides there will be always the making up.'
'Oh what a child you are,' says he laughing, 'but do you really love me?'
'Of course,' replies she gaily, and then seeing how earnest he is she goes up to him and slipping her arms round his neck she says, 'there is one thing you have not done.'
'What is it?' asks he.
'You've never settled where we are to live.'
'And more important still, you will not settle when we are to be married.'
'Not just yet; you see I shall have to get some clothes, and they couldn't be ready before Lent, and it would be unlucky to be married then.'
'That will put it off for at least three months,' objects he.
'Yes—don't you think the end of June would do nicely?'
'It will have to I suppose, but it is a long time off.'
'Never mind, it will soon be gone,' says Miss Seaton sweetly.
'June be it then,' replies Jimmy. 'The leafy month of June.'