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Page 92
Scrap, who had become melancholy at the sight of Briggs, became
philosophical at the sight of Arundel. Here he was. She couldn't send
him away till after dinner. He must be nourished.
This being so, she had better make the best of it, and do that
with a good grace which anyhow wasn't to be avoided. Besides, he would
be a temporary shelter from Mr. Briggs. She was at least acquainted
with Ferdinand Arundel, and could hear news from him of her mother and
her friends, and such talk would put up a defensive barrier at dinner
between herself and the approaches of the other one. And it was only
for one dinner, and he couldn't eat her.
She therefore prepared herself for friendliness. "I'm to be
fed," she said, ignoring his last remark, "at eight, and you must come
up and be fed too. Sit down and get cool and tell me how everybody
is."
"May I really dine with you? In these travelling things?" he
said, wiping his forehead before sitting down beside her.
She was too lovely to be true, he thought. Just to look at her
for an hour, just to hear her voice, was enough reward for his journey
and his fears.
"Of course. I suppose you've left your fly in the village, and
will be going on from Mezzago by the night train."
"Or stay in Mezzago in an hotel and go on to-morrow. But tell
me," he said, gazing at the adorable profile, "about yourself. London
has been extraordinarily dull and empty. Lady Droitwich said you were
with people here she didn't know. I hope they've been kind to you?
You look--well, as if your cure had done everything a cure should."
"They've been very kind," said Scrap. "I got them out of an
advertisement."
"An advertisement?"
"It's a good way, I find, to get friends. I'm fonder of one of
these than I've been of anybody in years."
"Really? Who is it?"
"You shall guess which of them it is when you see them. Tell me
about mother. When did you see her last? We arranged not to write to
each other unless there was something special. I wanted to have a
month that was perfectly blank."
"And now I've come and interrupted. I can't tell you how ashamed
I am--both of having done it and of not having been able to help it."
"Oh, but," said Scrap quickly, for he could not have come on a
better day, when up there waiting and watching for her was, she knew,
the enamoured Briggs, "I'm really very glad indeed to see you. Tell me
about mother."
Chapter 20
Scrap wanted to know so much about her mother that Arundel had
presently to invent. He would talk about anything she wished if only
he might be with her for a while and see her and hear her, but he knew
very little of the Droitwiches and their friends really--beyond meeting
them at those bigger functions where literature is also represented,
and amusing them at luncheons and dinners, he knew very little of them
really. To them he had always remained Mr. Arundel; no one called him
Ferdinand; and he only knew the gossip also available to the evening
papers and the frequenters of clubs. But he was, however, good at
inventing; and as soon as he had come to an end of first-hand
knowledge, in order to answer her inquires and keep her there to
himself he proceeded to invent. It was quite easy to fasten some of
the entertaining things he was constantly thinking on to other people
and pretend they were theirs. Scrap, who had that affection for her
parents which warms in absence, was athirst for news, and became more
and more interested by the news he gradually imparted.
At first it was ordinary news. He had met her mother here, and
seen her there. She looked very well; she said so and so. But
presently the things Lady Droitwich had said took on an unusual
quality: they became amusing.
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