t know, in his
exile, where no one took an interest in them, what a fund of latent
curiosity about them he treasured. It drew him on to gossip accordingly
and to feel how he had with Biddy indefeasible properties in
common--ever so many things as to which they'd always understand each
other _a demi-mot_. He smoked a cigarette because she begged him--people
always smoked in studios and it made her feel so much more an artist.
She apologised for the badness of her work on the ground that Nick was
so busy he could scarcely ever give her a sitting; so that she had to do
the head from photographs and occasional glimpses. They had hoped to be
able to put in an hour that morning, but news had suddenly come that Mr.
Carteret was worse, and Nick had hurried down to Beauclere. Mr. Carteret
was very ill, poor old dear, and Nick and he were immense friends. Nick
had always been charming to him. Peter and Biddy took the concerns of
the houses of Dormer and Sherringham in order, and the young man felt
after a little as if they were as wise as a French _conseil de famille_
and settling what was best for every one. He heard all about Lady Agnes;
he showed an interest in the detail of her existence that he had not
supposed himself to possess, though indeed Biddy threw out intimations
which excited his curiosity, presenting her mother in a light that might
call on his sympathy.

"I don't think she has been very happy or very pleased of late," the
girl said. "I think she has had some disappointments, poor dear mamma;
and Grace has made her go out of town for three or four days in the hope
of a little change. They've gone down to see an old lady, Lady St.
Dunstans, who never comes to London now and who, you know--she's
tremendously old--was papa's godmother. It's not very lively for Grace,
but Grace is such a dear she'll do anything for mamma. Mamma will go
anywhere, no matter at what risk of discomfort, to see people she can
talk with about papa."

Biddy added in reply to a further question that what her mother was
disappointed about was--well, themselves, her children and all their
affairs; and she explained that Lady Agnes wanted all kinds of things
for them that didn't come, that they didn't get or seem likely to get,
so that their life appeared altogether a failure. She wanted a great
deal, Biddy admitted; she really wanted everything, for she had thought
in her happier days that everything was to be hers. She loved them all
so much