ight way."

"But his heart's in the right place."

"What is the right place?"

"Don't be irritating, Romer. We'll go to the Green Gate on Monday then.
And now I must go out and order a short tweed skirt, and a garden
roller, and a few other things that we shall need in the country. Leave
it all to me! No, I never forget anything; even your mother says I'm
practical. And oh, do let's try and put her in a good temper before we
go away. You'd better go and see her and say good-bye to-day, early in
the afternoon, alone. And then I'll go in late and take away the
impression of anything you've said wrong. Do you see, darling? Dear
Romer!"

She went out of the room like a sunbeam in a hurry.

Romer followed her with a wondering expression. To him her movements,
her hair, her eyes seemed to suggest some fascinating language he had
not yet learnt. She seemed to him almost a magic creature.

As usual, he showed his sensations simply by obeying. He went to say
good-bye to his mother.

CHAPTER XIII

VALENTIA'S VISIT

Romer's mother, looking intensely cross--it was her form of deep
thought--was re-embroidering, with extra little stitches, and
unnecessary little French knots, and elaborate little buttonholes that
would never see a button, a large and fine piece of embroidery on which
she had been working for many months. She had that decadent love of
minute finish in the unessential so often seen in persons of a nervous
yet persistent temperament.

She was expecting her daughter-in-law. Romer had said, "Val will look in
this afternoon."

* * * * *

Valentia arrived, delightfully dressed, and, to the casual observer,
looking just as usual, but in her costume there was just that nuance of
difference--what was it?--extra sobriety, a more subdued look--some
trifle that she had worn last year to suggest to the seeing eye a hint
of praiseworthy economy?--at any rate, a shade that other young married
women would recognise at once as the right note when calling on one's
mother-in-law.

Mrs. Wyburn greeted her with real pleasure, and with far more warmth
than she ever showed to her son (her affection for him being authentic).
The sight of Valentia, however, always genuinely raised her spirits. She
was fascinated by her, and had an obscure desire to gain Valentia's
liking, and even admiration--by force, if necessary! At the same time
she felt jealousy, disapproval, an odd pride in the girl's cha