“What did you suppose he’d want?”

“Why, nothing but just to go about.  As we always did.”

“You idiot.”

“I don’t see why you should be so cross about it.”

Adeline sat down in the armchair at the head of the bed, prepared to “have it out” with Anne.

“I suppose you think my son’s happiness is nothing to me?  Didn’t it occur to you that if you refuse him he’ll stick for years in that awful place he’s going to?  Whereas if he had a wife in England there’d be a chance of his coming home now and then.  Perhaps he’d never go out again.”

“I’m sorry, Auntie.  I can’t marry Eliot even to keep him in England.  Even to please you.”

“Even to save his life, you mean.  You don’t care if he dies of some hideous tropical disease.”

“I care awfully.  But I can’t marry him.  He knows why.”

“It’s more than I do.  If you’re thinking of Jerrold, you needn’t.  I thought you’d done with that schoolgirlish nonsense.”

“I’m not ‘thinking’ of him.  I’m not ‘thinking’ of anybody and I wish you’d leave me alone.”

“My dear child, how can I leave you alone when I see you making the mistake of your life?  Eliot is absolutely the right person for you, if you’d only the sense to see it.  He’s got more character than anybody I know.  Much more than dear Jerry.  He’ll be ten times more interesting to live with.”

“I thought Jerrold was your favourite.”

“No, Eliot, my dear.  Always Eliot.  He was my first baby.”

“Well, I’m awfully sorry you mind so much.  And I’d marry Eliot if I could.  I simply hate him to be unhappy.  But he won’t be.  He’ll live to be frightfully glad I didn’t...What, aren’t you going to kiss me good-night?”

Adeline had risen and turned away with the great dignity of her righteous anger.

“I don’t feel like it,” she said.  “I think you’ve been thoroughly selfish and unkind.  I hate girls who go on like that—­making a man mad about you by pretending to be his comrade, and then throwing him over.  I’ve had more men in love with me, Anne, than you’ve seen in your life, but I never did that.”

“Oh Auntie, what about Father?  And you were engaged to him.”

“Well, anyhow,” said Adeline, softened by the recollection, “I was engaged.”

She smiled her enchanting smile; and Anne, observing the breakdown of dignity, got up off the bed and kissed her.

“I don’t suppose,” she said, “that Father was the only one.”

“He wasn’t.  But then, with me, my dear, it was their own risk.  They knew where they were.”

v

In March, nineteen eleven, Eliot went out to Central Africa.  He stayed there two years, investigating malaria and sleeping sickness.  Then he went on to the Straits Settlements and finally took a partnership in a practice at Penang.

Anne left Wyck at Easter and returned in August because of Colin.  Then she went back to her Ilford farm.