'Oh, please, stop,' Aylmer cried.

She looked up.

'It tinkles like an old-fashioned musical-box. Try another.'

'What would you like?' she asked, smiling.

He took up a French book and pa.s.sed it to her.

'You'll think I'm very changeable, but I should like this. Read me the beginning of _La-Bos_.'

And she began.

He listened with his eyes closed, lulled by the curious technique, with its constant repet.i.tions and jewelled style, charmed altogether. She read French fluently enough.

'That's delightful,' he said, but he soon noticed she was stumbling over the words. No, it was not suitable for her to read. He was obstinate, however, and was determined she should read him something.

So they fell back on _Northanger Abbey_.

CHAPTER XX

Lady Conroy had arrived home in Carlton House Terrace, complaining of a headache. She remained on the sofa in her sitting-room for about five minutes, during which time she believed she had been dozing. In reality she had been looking for her gla.s.ses, dropping her bag and ringing the bell to send a servant for a handkerchief.

She was a handsome woman of thirty-eight, with black hair turning a little grey, grey Irish eyes and a wonderfully brilliant complexion. She must have been a remarkably good-looking girl, but now, to her great vexation, she was growing a little too fat. She varied between treatments, which she scarcely began before she forgot them, and utter indifference to her appearance, when she declared she was much happier, letting herself go in loose gowns, and eating everything of which she had deprived herself for a day or two for the sake of her figure.

Lady Conroy had often compared herself to the old woman who lived in a shoe, because of her large family. Her friends declared she didn't remember how many children she had. She loved them, but there were certainly weeks when she didn't see the younger ones, for she was constantly absorbed in various different subjects. Besides, she spent most of her life in looking for things.

She was hopelessly careless and had no memory at all.

Suddenly she glanced at the watch on her wrist, compared it with the splendid Empire clock on the mantelpiece, and went with a bewildered look to the telephone on her writing-desk. Having gone through a considerable amount of torture by calling up the wrong number and absently ringing off as soon as she had got the right one, she at last found herself talking to Edith.

'Oh, is that you, dear? How lucky to catch you! Yes.... Yes.... I came back yesterday. Dying to see you. Can't you come round and see me? Oh, you've got on your hat; you were just coming? Of course, I forgot! I knew I had an appointment with someone! How soon will you be here?...

In a quarter of an hour? Good! Could you tell me the time, dear?...

Four o'clock, thanks. My watch is wrong, and they've never wound the clock up all the time I've been away. Good-bye. Don't be long.... How soon did you say you could come?... Oh, about a quarter of an hour! Do hurry!... I say, I've something very particular to tell you. It's about...

Oh, I'm detaining you. Very well. I see. Au revoir.'

As she waited for her visitor, Lady Conroy walked round the room. Nearly everything on which she cast her eye reminded her of a different train of thought, so that by the time Edith was announced by the footman she had forgotten what she wanted to tell her.

'How sweet you look, dear!' cried Lady Conroy, welcoming her most affectionately. 'How dear of you to come. You can't think how I was longing to see you. Can you tell me what day it is?'

'Why, it's Thursday,' Edith said, laughing. 'Don't you remember? You wired to me to come and see you today.'

'Of course; so I did. But, surely, I didn't ask you to come on Thursday?'

'I a.s.sure you that you did.'

'Fancy! How stupid of me! Thursday is my day at home. Dear, dear, dear.

I forgot to tell Standing; there will be no proper tea. Oh, I've brought such a nice French maid--a perfect wonder. She knows everything. She always knows what I want. One moment, dear; I'll ring for her and give her orders. Wait a minute, though.' She took Edith's hand and patted it affectionately. 'n.o.body knows I've come back; it'll be all right. We shan't have any visitors. I'm bursting with news to tell you.'

'And I'm longing to hear what it is.'

Lady Conroy's charming, animated face became blank. She frowned slightly, and a vague look came into her eyes--the pathetic look of someone who is trying to remember.

'Wait a minute--what is it? Oh yes. You know that woman you introduced me to at Dieppe?'

'What woman?'

'Don't you know, dear? Good heavens, it was you who introduced her--you ought to know.'

'Do you mean Madame Frabelle?' asked Edith, who was accustomed to Lady Conroy, and could follow the drift of her mind.

'Capital! That's it. How wonderful of you! Yes, Madame Frabelle. How do you like her?'

'Very much. But I didn't introduce her to you. You sent her to me.'

'Did I? Well, it's very much the same. Look here, Edith dear. This is what I want to ask you. I remember now. Oh, do you mind ringing the bell for me? I must tell Marie about the tea, in case people call.'

Edith obeyed.

'You see, dear,' went on her hostess, 'I've undertaken a terrific number of things--Belgian refugees, weekly knitting, hundreds of societies--all sorts of war work. Well, you know how busy I am, even without all that, don't you? Thank heaven the boys are at school, but there are the children in the nursery, and I don't leave them--at least hardly ever--to their nurse. I look after them myself--when I think of it. Oh, they've grown such heavenly angels--too sweet! And how's your pet, Dilly?'

'Very well. But do go on.'

'How right of you to keep me to the point, darling. That's where you're such a comfort always. Do you mind pa.s.sing me my gla.s.ses? Thanks.'

She put them on and immediately took them off. She only needed them for reading.

'Oh yes. I wanted to consult you about something, Edith.'

The footman came in.

'Oh, Standing, send Marie to me at once.... Bother the man, how he keeps worrying! Well, Edith dear, as I've got all this tremendous lot of work to do, I've made up my mind, for the sake of my health, I simply must have a sort of secretary or companion. You see?'

'I quite see. You spoke of it before.'

'Well, how do you think that woman you introduced to me, Madame Frabelle--how do you think she would--? Oh, Marie, today's my day at home; isn't it, Edith?'

'Today is Thursday,' said Edith.

'Thursday! Oh, my dear. Thursday's not my day at home. Well, anyhow, never mind about that. What was I saying, Marie?'

Marie remained respectfully waiting, with a tight French smile on her intelligent face.

'Oh, I know what it was. Marie, I want you to look after certain things for me here--anyhow, at present. I want you to tell the cook that I want tea at four o'clock. Oh no, it's half-past four--well, at five. And there's something I particularly want for tea. What is it?' she asked, looking at Edith. Immediately answering herself she said: 'I know, I want m.u.f.fins.'