like. Give the pen a rest. Clara joins in hoping you'll come, and Mother
is still here. No use, I suppose, to ask Flora.

"Yours ever,

"STANLEY."

During the twenty years of his brother's sojourn there Felix had been
down to Becket perhaps once a year, and latterly alone; for Flora,
having accompanied him the first few times, had taken a firm stand.

"My dear," she said, "I feel all body there."

Felix had rejoined:

"No bad thing, once in a way."

But Flora had remained firm. Life was too short! She did not get on
well with Clara. Neither did Felix feel too happy in his sister-in-law's
presence; but the gray top-hat instinct had kept him going there, for
one ought to keep in touch with one's brothers.

He replied to Stanley:

"DEAR STANLEY:

"Delighted; if I may bring my two youngsters. We'll arrive to-morrow at
four-fifty.

"Yours affectionately,

"FELIX."

Travelling with Nedda was always jolly; one could watch her eyes noting,
inquiring, and when occasion served, have one's little finger hooked in
and squeezed. Travelling with Alan was convenient, the young man having
a way with railways which Felix himself had long despaired of acquiring.
Neither of the children had ever been at Becket, and though Alan was
seldom curious, and Nedda too curious about everything to be specially
so about this, yet Felix experienced in their company the sensations of
a new adventure.

Arrived at Transham, that little town upon a hill which the Morton
Plough Works had created, they were soon in Stanley's car, whirling into
the sleepy peace of a Worcestershire afternoon. Would this young bird
nestling up against him echo Flora's verdict: 'I feel all body there!'
or would she take to its fatted luxury as a duck to water? And he said:
"By the way, your aunt's 'Bigwigs' set in on a Saturday. Are you for
staying and seeing the lions feed, or do we cut back?"

From Alan he got the answer he expected:

"If there's golf or something, I suppose we can make out all right."
From Nedda: "What sort of Bigwigs are they, Dad?"

"A sort you've never seen, my dear."

"Then I should like to stay. Only, about dresses?"

"What war paint have you?"

"Only two white evenings. And Mums gave me her Mechlin."

"'Twill serve."

To Felix, Nedda in white 'evenings' was starry and all that man could
desire.

"Only, Dad, do tell me about them, beforehand."

"My dear, I will. And God be with you. This is where Becket begins."