"When are you moving out of Red Lodge?" inquired Miss Allison, with the forlorn hope of leading the conversation into less introspective channels.
"On quarter day, I suppose. I believe the people who've bought it would like to move in sooner, but I don't really know. We don't discuss it."
This magnificent unconcern made Miss Allison blink. She said practically: "But oughtn't you to be looking for another house? It'll be rather awkward if you don't, surely?"
Rosemary shrugged. "What's the use?" she said.
Miss Allison, feeling herself to be unable to cope with the problem, said apologetically that she thought she ought to go back to the drawing room.
"I often think," remarked Rosemary, preparing to follow her, "that you placid people must find life very easy. I wish I did."
Not thinking this observation worthy of being replied to, Miss Allison merely smiled and stood aside for her to pass into the drawing room.
Their reappearance coincided with the arrival of the gentlemen from the dining room. As the door opened old Mrs. Kane abandoned even the smallest show of interest in the diet of Betty Pemble's children and looked towards it. Her deeply lined countenance, with its close mouth and pale, rather starting eyes, had in repose a forbidding quality, but as her glance fell on Jim Kane her whole face seemed to soften, and her mouth to relax into one of its rare smiles. She said nothing, but when he came across the room towards her she looked pleased and made a little gesture towards a chair beside hers.
He paused by a table to stub out his cigarette before coming to her, and then drew up the indicated chair and sat down.
"Well, what have you got to say for yourself?" inquired Emily.
He smiled. "That sounds as though I've done something I shouldn't. Have I?"
She gave a grim chuckle. "I'll be bound you have. When are you coming to stay?"
"Next week. May I?"
She nodded. "They don't give you long enough holidays at that Treasury," she said. "Where's your mother gone gallivanting off to now?"
"Belgian Congo," replied Jim. "It's no use asking me precisely where in the Congo, because no one can make out the address on her last letter. It looks like Mwarro Gwarro, but we can't help feeling that that's improbable."
"Pack of nonsense!" said Emily, but without rancour. "At her age too. Leaving the boy—what's his name—with us, are you?"
"That was the general idea," Jim admitted. "Not mine, but Adrian's. Do you mind? Adrian says Cousin Silas was kind enough to invite him."
"I dare say. He won't bother me," said Emily. "I like young people about the place. Miss Allison can look after him." A gleam stole into her eye; she added sardonically: "You'd better talk it over with her." She looked towards her companion and nodded imperiously. Miss Allison came to her at once. "My great-nephew wants to talk to you about his stepbrother," she announced.
Jim Kane had risen at Miss Allison's approach but shook his head at her glance of mild surprise. "No, I don't," he protested. "I mean, not about Timothy."
"Well, you don't want to talk to an old woman when you might be talking to a pretty young one, I hope," said Emily. "Miss Allison, show my great-nephew the orange tree in the conservatory."
She dismissed them with a nod. Jim Kane said: "I wish you would. I haven't been able to exchange two words with you so far."
"Go along," said Emily, clinching the matter.
So Miss Allison entered the conservatory for the purpose of the tкte-а-tкte for the second time that evening.
Mr. James Kane, who had a disconcerting habit of going straight to the point, said bluntly: "Have I offended you?"
"Offended me?" replied Miss Allison in a voice of studied lightness. "Dear me, no! Why should I be offended with you?"
"I don't know," said Jim. "I got the impression during dinner that you weren't liking me much."
"Nonsense!" said Miss Allison bracingly.
"Is it nonsense?" asked Jim.
"Of course. I mean—have you seen the white magnolia?"
"Yes, thanks. Why have you been snubbing me?"
"I don't think I have," said Miss Allison feebly.
"You know you have."
Really , thought Miss Allison, this tкte-а-tкteis worse than the last. She said rather haltingly: "Well, you must remember that I'm in a—I'm in a somewhat difficult position. I'm Mrs. Kane's companion, you know."
He looked puzzled for a moment; then his eyes crinkled at the corners. "I get it. I mustn't ask my great-aunt's companion to marry me. A bit Victorian, isn't it?"
"Not at all. Anyway, don't be silly!"
"I'm not being silly. Will you marry me?"
"No, certainly not!" said Miss Allison with quite unnecessary emphasis.
Mr. James Kane did not appear to be noticeably cast down by this brusque rejection of his suit. He said: "Because you'd rather not, or because you're Aunt Emily's companion?"
"Both," said Miss Allison in a hurry.
There was a moment's silence. Then Jim said in a level voice: "I see. All right, I'm sorry. Let's look at the magnolia."
Feeling like a murderess, Miss Allison led the way to the magnolia.
"Improbable-looking flowers, aren't they?" remarked Jim.
"Yes; so waxen," agreed Miss Allison. "The orange tree is over here."
"I've lost all interest in orange trees," said Jim. "Do you think you'll be able to cope with my young stepbrother till I come down?"
"Are you coming down?" asked Miss Allison involuntarily.
"Next week. Not if you'd rather I didn't."
"Of course I wouldn't. Please don't be absurd!"
"Come now, that sounds a lot more hopeful!" said Jim. "At least you can't dislike me!"
Miss Allison made no response.
"I shall persevere," said Jim.
"If ever I marry," declared Miss Allison, "it will be a millionaire."
"It?" said Jim.
"Well, you know what I mean."
"Rather! I see lots of 'em trotting about the city. Failing a millionaire, wouldn't a young man in comfortable circumstances do?"
"No," said Miss Allison firmly. "I must have pots of money. I need it."
Jim grinned appreciatively. "You've been talking to Rosemary."
She laughed. "Yes, but I ought not to have said that."
"A companion's life seems to be stiff with embargoes," he remarked, "The sooner you give it up the better. Would Aunt Emily's consent be any use to you?"
She shook her head.
"Then it is pure dislike?"
"No, it isn't!" said Miss Allison, unable to stop herself. "I mean— I mean— I'm going back into the drawing room!"
Mr. James Kane stepped between her and the way of escape. "All in good time. What do you mean?"
Miss Allison said bitterly: "You're one of those loathsome people who when given an inch grab an ell!"
"Me to the life," agreed Jim. "But let's get this straight. If you weren't my great-aunt's companion would you turn me down?"
Miss Allison, instead of assuring him that she would, replied a trifle incoherently: "It isn't so much Mrs. Kane. There's your mother too. She might well object to your getting entangled with a penniless companion-secretary."
"Good Lord, is that all?" said Jim, relieved. "You needn't worry about my mother. She won't care two hoots. Do you like coloured stones, or do you prefer diamonds?"
"I hate all jewellery!" said Miss Allison.
"Ah," said Mr. Kane, "I can see you'll make a Frugal Wife."
Before Miss Allison could think of a suitable retort their privacy was invaded by young Mr. Harte, who strolled into the conservatory with the air of one who is sure of his welcome and said cheerfully: "Hullo! What are you doing?"