She was
feminine--very feminine--the sort of creature that spoiled men by being
too nice to them. And though she had come determined to find out all
about everything and put an end to it, she saw Barbara re-entering the
wicket gate with considerable relief.
"I am ready to walk home now," she said. And getting up from the rustic
seat, she made Mrs. Noel a satirical little bow.
"Thank you for letting me rest. Give me your arm, child."
Barbara gave her arm, and over her shoulder threw a swift smile at Mrs.
Noel, who did not answer it, but stood looking quietly after them, her
eyes immensely dark and large.
Out in the lane Lady Casterley walked on, very silent, digesting her
emotions.
"What about the 'fly,' Granny?"
"What 'fly'?"
"The one you told me to order."
"You don't mean to say that you took me seriously?"
"No," said Barbara.
"Ha!"
They proceeded some little way farther before Lady Casterley said
suddenly:
"She is deep."
"And dark," said Barbara. "I am afraid you were not good!"
Lady Casterley glanced upwards.
"I detest this habit," she said, "amongst you young people, of taking
nothing seriously. Not even bulls," she added, with a grim smile.
Barbara threw back her head and sighed.
"Nor 'flys,'" she said.
Lady Casterley saw that she had closed her eyes and opened her lips.
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