He went out into the hall goodhumouredly to find his coat and hat, and Marie’s umbrella, while the two women kissed good-bye.  The fold of kimono that covered Julia’s bosom heaved rapidly and her eyes were very bright.  She would not offer Rokeby her hand, but went to the front door with her arm round Marie’s waist.

They looked back to wave at her before they ran downstairs; she looked very tall and brilliant as she stood in her doorway, her head held high, and her mouth tightly set, and when the door had shut upon her, Marie wondered aloud: 

“What can have happened to annoy her so?”

“I’ve done it,” said Rokeby, “but don’t worry over it.  These things adjust themselves, and nothing matters at the moment, anyway, but seeing you safely home.”

“You can’t come right out to Hampstead.”

“I can; and I should certainly like to, if I may.  Osborn would never forgive me for leaving you at this time of night.”

She thought how kind he was, and how restful.  It was attractive to be looked after again, deferred to and considered.  Rokeby drove her the whole way out in a taxicab and found the sincerity of her thanks, as they parted, very touching.  As for Marie, not for years had she climbed all those cold stairs so buoyantly; and after her long day, as she put her latchkey in the lock, she suddenly sensed the pleasure of coming home.  There was nothing to do, in a rush, when she got in; no preparations to make, or food to cook; no setting forward of work for to-morrow, for the charwoman was coming early.

A man was a man certainly, and a quality to miss, but without him there was a great still peace in the flat.

Grannie Amber, blinking drowsily, came out of the dining-room to meet her daughter.

She noted the bright eyes and cheeks, and her heart beat joyfully.

“Had a nice time, duck?”

“Lovely, mother.  I lunched by myself at the Royal Red, and watched the people.  Then I had my fingers manicured, and went to tell Mr. Rokeby about Osborn, and had such a nice tea in his office; he’s got such a pretty office.  Then he took me to Julia’s flat, and we three had dinner together.  Oh! we were jolly.  Mr. Rokeby cooked; how we laughed!  Julia made him wear one of her aprons, and I made him the sweetest cook-cap you ever saw.  I don’t know when I’ve enjoyed myself so much.”

“He’s a nice man,” said Grannie approvingly; “I wonder if he’s thinking of marrying Miss Winter?”

“Mother, your head always runs on somebody marrying somebody else.”

“Well, duck, I’m an old woman, and in my long life I’ve noticed that they always do.”

“Julia hates men.”

“I don’t believe it, my love.”

Marie went into her dining-room and looked around it with a new sense of authority; she was now a complete law unto that room and all in it.

“I’ve got a cup of soup for you here, dear,” said Grannie Amber, bustling to the fireplace.