He had his back to the door, but Althea was facing it. She saw it opening and she pulled on her hands to get them away, but she was too late. The door swung in and Myra Hutchinson stood there. She was more like a poster than ever – bronze hair, scarlet lipstick, and a dress with a halter-neck in a surprising shade of green. She had been laughing, but the laugh had stopped half way. It had stopped because of what she had just heard Nicholas say. She said ‘Oh!’ and he looked over his shoulder and grinned at her.
‘See you later, darling. We’re having a private conversation.’
She did finish her laugh then, but it wasn’t quite as carefree as usual. She said, ‘So I see,’ and stepped back and shut the door again.
Nicholas laughed too. He hadn’t let go of Althea. He laughed and he got up, pulling her with him.
‘And now I’m going to kiss you,’ he said.
NINE
MISS MAUD SILVER did not as a rule accept invitations to cocktail-parties, a modern innovation which in her opinion compared unfavourably with the now practically extinct tea-party or At Home. In pre-war days one sat at one’s ease and conversed with one’s friends. At a cocktail-party you were very lucky indeed if you got a chair, and it was quite impossible to converse, the competition in voices being such as to produce a roar resembling that of a cataract or the passing of a procession of tanks. Yet she had come down by tube to Grove Hill in order to attend one of these disagreeable functions. She would not have done it for just anyone, but Mrs Justice was an old friend and her daughter had once had reason to be grateful for Miss Silver’s professional help. She was now comfortably and happily married in Barbados, and had been more than kind to Miss Silver’s niece by marriage, Dorothy Silver. There had been an emergency – Dorothy’s husband away, Dorothy taken suddenly ill – and nothing could have exceeded Sophy Harding’s kindness. It was now four years ago, but grateful recollection induced Miss Silver to take her way to Grove Hill. As was her wont, she dwelt upon the brighter side of the excursion. It would be pleasant to see Louisa Justice. They had not met for some little time, and she would be able to hear all about the latest addition to Sophy’s family, the twins. There was something very attractive about twins.
Arriving a little early, she had a very pleasant talk with Louisa Justice before the room filled up. Presently she found herself on a sofa pushed well back into the deep bay-window – quite an agreeable position as not only was the noise considers ably mitigated but it afforded a comfortable corner seat and gave her an excellent view of the room. She had an unflagging interest in people. Detective Inspector Frank Abbott of Scotland Yard was in the habit of remarking that as far as she was concerned the human race was glass-fronted. She looked not so much at them as through them, and whether they liked it or not, she saw whatever there was to see. Be that as it may, she found plenty to interest her and to occupy her thoughts as she watched Louisa’s guests.
Presently she was aware that the sofa had another occupant, a lady in blue who leaned back in the opposite corner with a languid air. After a moment the lady spoke.
‘So hot…’ she said and drew a sighing breath.
Miss Silver turned a sympathetic gaze upon her. She appeared distressed, but was neither flushed nor pale. Her colour had indeed been augmented, but it was supported by the natural tint. She said,
‘The room is certainly very hot.’
‘It is the climate,’ said Mrs Graham. ‘Never the same two days together. And I have to be so very careful about changes of temperature – I am so very far from strong.’
‘That must be a great trial to you.’
‘Oh, it is! I am so sensitive to anything like damp, and of course the English climate is never really dry. I had been thinking of going on one of those Mediterranean cruises so as to escape the worst of the winter, but I am afraid I shall not be able to manage it.’
‘Indeed?’
Mrs Graham shook her head mournfully.
‘I think it would be too much for me. And I hear that the company is really very mixed. One has to be so particular when one has a daughter.’
Miss Silver agreeing, Mrs Graham went on in a sighing voice.
‘Girls are so headstrong. They think they know everything, and they resent the attempts we make to guard them. There – that is my daughter Althea over there.’
Miss Silver saw a tall slender girl in a green dress. She was bareheaded and she had pretty hair and good features. Her eyes were bright and she was looking about her as though there was someone she expected to see.
Miss Silver smiled indulgently and said,
‘She is a pretty girl.’
Mrs Graham didn’t know whether to be pleased or not. She said peevishly,
‘Girls are a great anxiety. And of course they think of nobody but themselves. There was a most undesirable young man who used really to pester her with his attentions. Fortunately it all came to nothing and he went away, but he has come back and it really will be dreadful if it starts all over again. That is one reason why I thought about the cruise – it would get her away from him. But then on the other hand there might be someone even less desirable on the boat.’
Miss Silver said,
‘Or someone desirable…’
Mrs Graham shook her head.
‘I am afraid not. These cruises are so very mixed. Besides, the young man I was talking of came up and spoke to me a little while ago. If I had known that he was to be here I would have persuaded Thea to stay away. Most unpleasant for her, and so disturbing. Because do you know what he said to me, and without the least encouragement? I shook hands with him of course – I had to do that – but when he said he would like to come and see us I said I was afraid we were going to be very busy as we were going off on this cruise, and he had the effrontery to ask when we were sailing, and to say that he felt very much tempted to come too!’
On the other side of the room Althea was making for the door. She reached it as Nicholas Carey reached it. They went out together and it shut behind them. Mrs Graham had missed the incident. She was looking at Miss Silver and warming to the theme of Nicholas’s effrontery. But Miss Silver had seen the young couple go, and she had not missed the sudden glow on Althea’s face as she turned and saw who it was behind her. She went on listening to Mrs Graham on the subject of ungrateful daughters and undesirable young men.
About twenty minutes later when she was alone again, Mrs Graham having drifted away, she saw the return of Althea and Nicholas. They came into the room and separated, the young man going off to the left and the girl coming straight across the room. It was perfectly plain to Miss Silver that something had occurred between them. The girl had been crying. Her lashes were still wet, but she had a softly radiant air and she looked as if she was walking in a dream. As to the young man, he looked as if he had just come into his heart’s desire.
Althea spoke to no one. She threaded her way amongst the crowd and dropped down upon the sofa beside Miss Silver. She was indeed in a dream. It was the kind of dream in which impossible things become possible. You float easily over obstacles which have reared themselves like cliffs across the path. You climb the unscalable heights and there is no voice to call you back. She was only vaguely aware of Miss Silver’s presence. This state of mind continued for no more than a few minutes. She began to realize that people would think it strange if she went on sitting here quite silently beside a stranger. She turned her head, and at the same time Miss Silver addressed her.
‘Am I right in thinking that you are Miss Althea Graham?’