Phoenix and Ashes

elected to do so for me. But Alderscroft is a kind man, and perhaps. . ..' She looked away and let the words trail off. The letter to Lady Devlin had stressed how lonely, how hungry for refined company Alison was. But that was not what one would say for one's own self. 'One wishes for compatible company, now and again. One does one's best,' she murmured, dropping her eyes. 'But sometimes, I worry about my daughters. I should think that Broom would feel very confining for a young person.'

'Oh, no, Mama, not at all!' Carolyn, looking very pretty in soft lilac, exclaimed. 'Why, our days are very full here! We have the parish work, the Red Cross, the Ladies' Friendly Society—now that spring is come, there will be tennis at the country club—we scarcely have time to ourselves, some days!'

Now Alison exchanged a significant look with Lady Devlin. These are all productive things, no doubt, but hardly entertaining for a pretty young girl] And they do not put her into company appropriate to her breeding.

'And of course—the war—' Lauralee's hands fluttered over her cup, the sleeves of her pink gown fluttering gently as well. 'There are so many things one can do for the war—'

'Well, when we were your age,' Lady Devlin said, with a friendly glance at Alison, 'I'm sure we didn't think half as much about parish work and the like. It seems a pity this war has reached so far into our lives.'

Alison let the corners of her mouth droop. 'All of England seems so sad,' she agreed. 'And yet, one feels guilty if one does anything the least frivolous, when so many are suffering.'

A slight movement of her hands drew subtle attention to her lapel, where she wore her widow's ribbon.

'And your dear husband was one of the first of our sacrifices,' said Lady Devlin, with an air of sympathy.

'Mr. Robinson and I were only just married, too,' she replied, now putting on a faint look of patient suffering, one she had practiced long in the mirror. 'My first husband—the father of my girls—was a fine, fine man, but Robinson was my true love, late though he came to my life, and brief though his stay in it was.'

Calculated, slyly calculated, to appeal to the romantic in her. And it worked, sublimely well. Lady Devlin passed her the plate of potted-salmon sandwiches with a sigh of commiseration.

'You poor dear]' she said, with an air of having made up her mind after careful consideration, which Alison did not in the least doubt. 'You must come up to tea at Longacre next week, you and your charming daughters. Will Tuesday be reasonable for you?'

'My lady, any day you choose to honor us will be convenient,' Alison replied, with eager humility. 'We would never wish to be a burden on you, no matter what our cousin has told you.'

'Oh, pish-tush,' Lady Devlin said, waving her hand. 'How could three more ladies be a burden at tea? The vicar and his wife will be there, and Roberta Cygnet and her daughter Leva, and Gina Towner, Miss Elizabeth Tansy—the Devon Tansys, you know, she's visiting with Leva, and Mr. Hartwell—'

Alison placed her fingers over her lips and allowed a smile to appear. 'You don't mean William Hartwell, surely? The one who keeps exploding his sheds with his inventions?'

Lady Devlin laughed. 'He does seem convinced that he will win the war, does he not? Well, he's a dear, and the worst that will come along with him is a faint aroma of gunpowder—'

There was a light tap at the doorframe, the stocky form of the innkeeper hunched diffidently there. 'Is all to your liking, my lady? Is there anything else I can serve you with?'

'No, Mr. Caffrey, thank you,' Lady Devlin sighed. 'You've done a remarkable job under the trying circumstances that surround us. Thank you.'

'Very well, my lady.' The innkeeper bowed himself out, leaving them alone once more.

'Will your son come to tea, Lady Devlin?' Carolyn asked, ingenuously. 'I had heard that he was home at last. I have always wanted to meet an aeroplane pilot! It must be so thrilling to be able to fly!'

But to both girls' vast disappointment, she shook her head. 'I'm afraid not, dear,' she said, in a kindly tone. 'Company is a trial for him right now. But that's all right; sometime soon you'll be sure to meet him.'

I hope to hell I don't meet Mother or any of her kittenish friends, Reggie thought, as he drove the auto at a snail's pace down into the village. Every bounce and rut made his knee sing with pain. This was not a bad thing, in some ways; when he was in physical pain, he could ignore the emotional turmoil within him. Grandfather had been up to his old tricks this morning, hovering just on the edge of his vision and glowering, every so often mouthing the word, 'Malingerer.' He'd taken refuge in the garage to overhaul the Vauxhall Prince Henry he'd bought just before the war.

That was when Budd had made the current suggestion, and he couldn't have leapt upon it faster if he'd had both good legs back.