Mrs. Delaport Green tried to interject some civil remarks, but Lady Groombridge paid not the slightest attention.  The only visitors who interested her in the least were Rose and Edmund Grosse.  She could hardly remember why she had invited Mrs. Delaport Green and Molly when she met them in London, and Billy was always Lord Groombridge’s guest.

“Well, if Rose won’t come out of the wood, I suppose we may as well come in, and perhaps you would like to see your room;” and, with an air of resignation, she led the way.

She stood in the middle of a gorgeously-upholstered room of the date of George IV., and looked fretfully round.

“Of course it is hideous, but I think if you have a good thing even of the worst date it is best to leave it alone;” and then, with a gleam of humour in her eye, she turned to Molly, “and whenever you feel your taste vitiated (or whatever they call it nowadays) in your room next door, you can always look out of the window, you know.”  And then, speaking to Mrs. Delaport Green: 

“We have no light of any sort or kind, and no bathrooms, but there are plenty of candles, and I can’t see why, with large hip baths and plenty of water, people can’t keep clean.  Yes, dinner is at 8.15 sharp; I hope you have everything you want; there is no bell into your maid’s room, but the housemaid can always fetch your maid.”

Then she ushered Molly into the next room and, after briefly pointing out its principal defects, she left her to rest her body and tire her mind on a hard but gorgeously-upholstered couch until it should be time to dress for dinner.

CHAPTER IX

A LITTLE MORE THAN KIND

Edmund Grosse felt more tolerant of Billy at Groombridge Castle than elsewhere.  At Groombridge he was looked upon as a kindly weakness of Lord Groombridge’s, who consulted him about the stables and enjoyed his jokes.  This position certainly made him more attractive to Edmund, but he was not sorry that Billy, who seldom troubled a church, went there on Easter Sunday morning and left him in undisturbed possession of the terrace.

The sun was just strong enough to be delightful, and, with an interesting book and an admirable cigar, it ought to have been a goodly hour for Grosse.  But the fact was that he had wished to walk to church with Rose, and he had quite hoped that if it were only for his soul’s sake she would betray some wish for him to come.  But if she didn’t, he wouldn’t.  He knew quite well that she would be pleased if he went, but if she were so silly and self-conscious as to be afraid of appearing to want his company—­well and good; she should do without it.