The Wings of the Dove, Volume 2

communication took consistent form. It had never been pride, Maud Manningham had hinted, that kept her from crying when other things made for it; it had only been that these same things, at such times, made still more for business, arrangements, correspondence, the ringing of bells, the marshalling of servants, the taking of decisions. 'I might be crying now,' she said, 'if I weren't writing letters'—and this quite without harshness for her anxious companion, to whom she allowed just the administrative margin for difference. She had interrupted her no more than she would have interrupted the piano-tuner. It gave poor Susie time; and when Mrs. Lowder, to save appearances and catch the post, had, with her addressed and stamped notes, met at the door of the room the footman summoned by the pressure of a knob, the facts of the case were sufficiently ready for her. It took but two or three, however, given their importance, to lay the ground for the great one—Mrs. Stringham's interview of the day before with Sir Luke, who had wished to see her about Milly.

'He had wished it himself?'

'I think he was glad of it. Clearly indeed he was. He stayed a quarter of an hour. I could see that for him it was long. He's interested,' said Mrs. Stringham.

'Do you mean in her case?'

'He says it isn't a case.'

'What then is it?'

'It isn't, at least,' Mrs. Stringham explained, 'the case she believed it to be—thought it at any rate might be—when, without my knowledge, she went to see him. She went because there was something she was afraid of, and he examined her thoroughly—he has made sure. She's wrong—she hasn't what she thought.'

'And what did she think?' Mrs. Lowder demanded.

'He didn't tell me.'

'And you didn't ask?'

'I asked nothing,' said poor Susie—'I only took what he gave me. He gave me no more than he had to—he was beautiful,' she went on. 'He is, thank God, interested.'

'He must have been interested in you, dear,' Maud Manningham observed with kindness.

Her visitor met it with candour. 'Yes, love, I think he is. I mean that he sees what he can do with me.'

Mrs. Lowder took it rightly. 'For her.'

'For her. Anything in the world he will or he must. He can use me to the last bone, and he likes at least that. He says the great thing for her is to be happy.'

'It's surely the great thing for every one. Why, therefore,' Mrs. Lowder handsomely asked, 'should we cry so hard about it?'

'Only,' poor Susie wailed, 'that it's so strange, so beyond us. I mean if she can't be.'

'She must be.' Mrs. Lowder knew no impossibles. 'She shall be.'

'Well—if you'll help. He thinks, you know, we can help.'

Mrs. Lowder faced a moment, in her massive way, what Sir Luke Strett thought. She sat back there, her knees apart, not unlike a picturesque ear-ringed matron at a market-stall; while her friend, before her, dropped their items, tossed the separate truths of the matter one by one, into her capacious apron. 'But is that all he came to you for—to tell you she must be happy?'

'That she must be made so—that's the point. It seemed enough, as he told me,' Mrs. Stringham went on; 'he makes it somehow such a grand possible affair.'

'Ah well, if he makes it possible!'

'I mean especially he makes it grand. He gave it to me, that is, as my part. The rest's his own.'

'And what's the rest?' Mrs. Lowder asked.

'I don't know. His business. He means to keep hold of her.'

'Then why do you say it isn't a 'case'? It must be very much of one.'

Everything in Mrs. Stringham confessed to the extent of it. 'It's only that it isn't the case she herself supposed.'

'It's another?'

'It's another.'

'Examining her for what she supposed he finds something else?'

'Something else.'

'And what does he find?'

'Ah,' Mrs. Stringham cried, 'God keep me from knowing!'

'He didn't tell you that?'

But poor Susie had recovered herself. 'What I mean is that if it's there I shall know in time. He's considering, but I can trust him for it—because he does, I feel, trust me. He's considering,' she repeated.

'He's in other words not sure?'

'Well, he's watching. I think that's what he means. She's to get away now, but to come back to him in three months.'