“How lovely!” said Laura.
Henry was satisfied. Obviously Laura could not be in earnest.
When the guests had gone, and Henry had bolted and chained the door, and put out the hall light, Laura hung about a little, thinking that he or Caroline might wish to ask her more. But they asked nothing and went upstairs to bed. Soon after, Laura followed them. As she passed their bedroom door she heard their voices within, the comfortable fragmentary talk of a husband and wife with complete confidence in each other and nothing particular to say.
Laura decided to tackle Henry on the morrow. She observed him during breakfast and saw with satisfaction that he seemed to be in a particularly benign mood. He had drunk three cups of coffee, and said “Ah! poor fellow!” when a wandering cornet-player began to play on the pavement opposite. Laura took heart from these good omens, and, breakfast being over, and her brother and the Times retired to the study, she followed them thither.
“Henry,” she said. “I have come for a talk with you.”
Henry looked up. “Talk away, Lolly,” he said, and smiled at her.
“A business talk,” she continued.
Henry folded the Times and laid it aside. He also (if the expression may be allowed) folded and laid aside his smile.
“Now, Lolly, what is it?”
His voice was kind, but businesslike. Laura took a deep breath, twisted the garnet ring round her little finger, and began.
“It has just occurred to me, Henry, that I am forty-seven.”
She paused.
“Go on!” said Henry.
“And that both the girls are married. I don’t mean that that has just occurred to me too, but it’s part of it. You know, really I’m not much use to you now.”
“My dear Lolly!” remonstrated her brother. “You are extremely useful. Besides, I have never considered our relationship in that light.”
“So I have been thinking. And I have decided that I should like to go and live at Great Mop. You know, that place I was talking about last night.”
Henry was silent. His face was completely blank. Should she recall Great Mop to him by once more repeating the description out of the guidebook?
“In the Chilterns,” she murmured. “Pop. 227.”
Henry’s silence was unnerving her.
“Really, I think it would be a good plan. I should like to live alone in the country. And in my heart I think I have always meant to, one day. But one day is so like another, it’s almost impossible to throw salt on its tail. If I don’t go soon, I never shall. So if you don’t mind, I should like to start as soon as possible.”
There was another long pause. She could not make out Henry at all. It was not like him to say nothing when he was annoyed. She had expected thunders and tramplings, and those she could have weathered. But thus becalmed under a lowering sky she was beginning to lose her head.
At last he spoke.
“I hardly know what to say.”
“I’m sorry if the idea annoys you, Henry.”
“I am not annoyed. I am grieved. Grieved and astonished. For twenty years you have lived under my roof. I have always thought—I may be wrong, but I have always thought—that you were happy here.”
“Quite happy,” said Laura.
“Caroline and I have done all we could to make you so. The children—all the children—look on you as a second mother. We are all devoted to you. And now, without a word of warning, you propose to leave us and go and live at a place called Great Mop. Lolly! I must ask you to put this ridiculous idea out of your head.”
“I never expected you to be so upset, Henry. Perhaps I should have told you more gradually. I should be sorry to hurt you.”
“You have hurt me, I admit,” said he, firmly seizing on this advantage. “Still, let that pass. Say you won’t leave us, Lolly.”
“I’m afraid I can’t quite do that.”
“But Lolly, what you want is absurd.”
“It’s only my own way, Henry.”
“If you would like a change, take one by all means. Go away for a fortnight. Go away for a month! Take a little trip abroad if you like. But come back to us at the end of it.”
“No, Henry. I love you all, but I feel I have lived here long enough.”
“But why? But why? What has come over you?”
Laura shook her head.
“Surely you must have some reasons.”
“I have told you my reasons.”
“Lolly! I cannot allow this. You are my sister. I consider you my charge. I must ask you, once for all to drop this idea. It is not sensible. Or suitable.”
“I have reminded you that I am forty-seven. If I am not old enough now to know what is sensible and suitable, I never shall be.”
“Apparently not.”
This was more like Henry’s old form. But though he had scored her off, it did not seem to have encouraged him as much as scoring off generally did. He began again, almost as a suppliant.
“Be guided by me, Lolly. At least, take a few days to think it over.”
“No, Henry. I don’t feel inclined to; I’d much rather get it over now. Besides, if you are going to disapprove as violently as this, the sooner I pack up and start the better.”
“You are mad. You talk of packing up and starting when you have never even set eyes on the place.”
“I was thinking of going there today, to make arrangements.”
“Well, then, you will do nothing of the kind. I’m sorry to seem harsh, Lolly. But you must put all this out of your mind.”
“Why?”
“It is impracticable.”
“Nothing is impracticable for a single, middle-aged woman with an income of her own.”
Henry paled slightly, and said: “Your
