:

"That petty bullying in the country! I know it! My God! Those prudes,
those prisms! They're the ruination of half the girls on the--" He
looked at Nedda and stopped short. "If she can do any kind of work, I'll
find her a place. In fact, she'd better come, for a start, under my old
housekeeper. Let your cousin know; she can turn up any day. Name? Wilmet
Gaunt? Right you are!" He wrote it on his cuff.

Nedda rose to her feet, having an inclination to seize his hand, or
stroke his head, or something. She subsided again with a fervid sigh,
and sat exchanging with him a happy smile. At last she said:

"Mr. Cuthcott, is there any chance of things like that changing?"

"Changing?" He certainly had grown paler, and was again lightly
thumping the table. "Changing? By gum! It's got to change! This d--d
pluto-aristocratic ideal! The weed's so grown up that it's choking us.
Yes, Miss Freeland, whether from inside or out I don't know yet, but
there's a blazing row coming. Things are going to be made new before
long."

Under his thumps the little plates had begun to rattle and leap. And
Nedda thought: 'I DO like him.'

But she said anxiously:

"You believe there's something to be done, then? Derek is simply full of
it; I want to feel like that, too, and I mean to."

His face grew twinkly; he put out his hand. And wondering a little
whether he meant her to, Nedda timidly stretched forth her own and
grasped it.

"I like you," he said. "Love your cousin and don't worry."

Nedda's eyes slipped into the distance.

"But I'm afraid for him. If you saw him, you'd know."

"One's always afraid for the fellows that are worth anything. There was
another young Freeland at your uncle's the other night--"

"My brother Alan!"

"Oh! your brother? Well, I wasn't afraid for him, and it seemed a pity.
Have some of this; it's about the only thing they do well here."

"Oh, thank you, no. I've had a lovely lunch. Mother and I generally have
about nothing." And clasping her hands she added:

"This is a secret, isn't it, Mr. Cuthcott?"

"Dead."

He laughed and his face melted into a mass of wrinkles. Nedda laughed
also and drank up the rest of her wine. She felt blissful.

"Yes," said Mr. Cuthcott, "there's nothing like loving. How long have
you been at it?"

"Only five days, but it's everything."

Mr. Cuthcott sighed. "That's right. When you can't love, the only thing
is to hate."

"Oh!" said Nedda.

Mr. Cuthcott again bega