that.”
Verity had almost forgotten him but there he stood gazing anxiously over the riot of lilies he carried. At that moment Verity actually liked him.
Prue evidently said something final to Claude. She walked quickly toward the house, joined her mother and Gideon on the steps, took Sybil’s arm and led her indoors. Claude stared after them, turned toward Verity, changed his mind and sloped off in the direction of the trees.
“It wasna on any invitation of mine he came,” said Bruce hotly. “He worrumed the information oot of me.”
“I can well believe it,” said Verity.
Gideon came to them.
“It’s all right,” he said to Verity. “Prue’s taking Mrs. Foster up to her room.” And to Bruce: “Perhaps you could wait in the entrance hall until Miss Prunella comes down.”
“I’ll do that, sir, thank you,” Bruce said and went indoors.
Gideon smiled down at Verity. He had, she thought, an engaging smile. “What a very bumpy sort of a visit,” he said.
“How was it shaping up? Before Charmless Claude intervened?”
“Might have been worse, I suppose. Not much worse, though. The reverse of open arms and cries of rapturous welcome. You must have done some wonderful softening-up, Miss Preston, for her to receive me at all. We couldn’t be more grateful.” He hesitated for a moment. “I hope you don’t mind my asking but is there — is she — Prue’s mother — I don’t know how to say it. Is there something—?” He touched his face.
“I know what you mean. Yes. There is.”
“I only wondered.”
“It’s new.”
“I think Prue’s seen it. Prue’s upset. She managed awfully well but she
is
upset.”
“Prue’s explained Charmless Claude, has she?”
“Yes. Pretty ghastly specimen. She coped marvellously,” said Gideon proudly.
“Here she comes.”
When Prunella joined them she was white-faced but perfectly composed. “We can go now,” she said and got into the car.
“Where’s your bag?” asked Gideon.
“What? Oh,
damn
,” said Prunella, “I’ve left it up there. Oh,
what
a fool! Now I’ll have to go back.”
“Shall I?”
“It’s in her room. And she’s been pretty beastly to you.”
“Perhaps I could better myself by a blithe change of manner.”
“
What
a good idea,” cried Prunella. “Yes, do let’s try it. Say she looks like Mrs. Onassis.”
“She doesn’t. Not remotely. Nobody less.”
“She thinks she does.”
“One can but try,” Gideon said. “There’s nothing to lose.”
“No more there is.”
He was gone for longer than they expected. When he returned with Prunella’s bag he looked dubious. He started up the car and drove off.
“Any good?” Prunella ventured.
“She didn’t actually throw anything at me.”
“Oh,” said Prunella. “Like that, was it.”
She was very quiet on the homeward drive. Verity, in the back seat, saw her put her hand on Gideon’s knee. He laid his own hand briefly over it and looked down at her. “He knows exactly how to handle her,” Verity thought. “There’s going to be no doubt about who’s the boss.”
When they arrived at Keys she asked them to come in for a drink but Gideon said his father would be expecting them.
“I’ll see Godma V in,” said Prue as Gideon prepared to do so.
She followed Verity indoors and kissed and thanked her very prettily. Then she said: “About Mummy. Has she had a stroke?”
“My dear child, why?”
“You noticed. I could see you did.”
“I don’t think it looked like that. In any case they — the doctor — would have let you know if anything serious was wrong.”
“P’raps he didn’t know. He may not be a good doctor. Sorry, I forgot he was a friend.”
“He’s not. Not to matter.”
“I think I’ll ring him up. I think there’s something wrong Honestly, don’t you?”
“I did wonder and yet—”
“What?”
“In a funny sort of way she seemed — well — excited, pleased.”
“I thought so, too.”
“It’s very