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Page 108
This was purposeful vagueness and Miss Falconer's crayon snapped.
She made a sound of annoyance, then began gathering her sketching
things tidily together. Presently, "He's rather an agreeable person,
that young American, after all," she cannily observed.
"Why, after all?" Lady Claire was implacably aloof.
"Well, first impressions, you know----"
"_My_ first impressions of Mr. Hill were very delightful." The
English girl laughed softly, her eyes full of reminiscent amusement.
"He was a _deus ex machina_ to me--I quite jumped at him, I assure
you!"
"You don't have to assure me!" was the elder lady's unspoken
comment. She had been in a state of chronic irritation, ever since
that Friday noon when Billy B. Hill's tall figure had appeared in
the hotel dining room. And hurrying Claire away from the
conversation he was promptly evoking, she had encountered Arlee
Beecher and the Evershams streaming with the other passengers from
their boat to see the temple of Luxor, a wonderfully gay and excited
Arlee, so radiant in the happiness of her own safe world again that
she was bright gladness incarnate.... Instantly Robert had reverted
to his alarming infatuation ... and Lady Claire had most shamelessly
welcomed the American. It was all unspeakably annoying....
Aloud Miss Falconer observed, "I wonder what brought Mr. Hill back
to the Nile."
"I wonder," said Lady Claire pleasantly. "But it makes it very nice
for us, doesn't it?" she continued amiably. "He knows quite
_everything_ about temples."
"And particularly nice for Miss Beecher--though I can't say she is
treating him very well. However, that may be their way. 'Romance
apart from results,' was, I believe, his phrase."
Lady Claire was silent. But not overlong. "You really think----?"
she suggested tranquilly.
"He came on the same train."
"Coincidence. He mentioned he did not see her in the train till
Balliana."
"Umph!" Miss Falconer drew out of her bag the especial knitting
which she reserved for the Sabbath, and her fingers flew with
expressive spirit. "It's scandalous," she said at length. "Girls
gadding about the face of the earth--picking up chaperons when they
remember them."
"It's their way, you know."
"Oh, yes, it's their way. And their men seem to like it. Mr. Hill
didn't seem to consider it even _unusual_.... But as I said, he's
hardly a judge," Miss Falconer went on unsparingly. "The man's
bewitched. He never takes his eyes off her."
"I'm sure I don't blame him." Lady Claire's tone was most
successfully admiring. "She's too _wonderful_, isn't she, with those
great blue eyes and that astonishing hair! I'm sure Robert is
bewitched, too!"
"Nonsense!" But Miss Falconer's tone was too vigorous, betraying the
effort to rout a palpable enemy. "What nonsense!" she repeated.
"He's civil--naturally--when _you_ haven't a moment for him. The boy
has pride. Too much." The knitting needles clicked warningly.
"Civil!" The girl's low laughter was mocking. "Dear Miss Falconer,
you are such an _euphuist_!"
Miss Falconer looked up, a trifle startled. Her young charge was
more than a match for her in irony, but the elder lady did not lack
for solid perseverance, and she charged on undeterred.
"Of course the girl's pretty--too pretty. And Robert's a man--he has
eyes in his head and likes to please them. And she knows who he is
and draws him on."
"I don't think Miss Beecher cares a twopence who Robert is," said
Lady Claire honestly. "When I told her he was going to stand for
Roxham she answered that she had a very poor opinion of M.P.s--from
reading Mrs. Ward. I can't _quite_ see what she meant--but as for
her drawing him on, a moment ago, dear, you were accusing her of
luring Mr. Hill back from Cairo."
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