Mr. Gladstone, that great wise statesman, whose hand had once rested
for an unforgettable moment solemnly on her head, would have, she felt,
on perceiving Lady Caroline left off talking sense and horribly
embarked on badinage.

"You see," Mrs. Wilkins said--a silly trick that, with which she
mostly began her sentences; Mrs. Fisher each time wished to say,
"Pardon me--I do not see, I hear"--but why trouble?--"You see," said
Mrs. Wilkins, leaning across towards Lady Caroline, "we arranged,
didn't we, in London that if any of us wanted to we could each invite
one guest. So now I'm doing it."

"I don't remember that," said Mrs. Fisher, her eyes on her plate.

"Oh yes, we did--didn't we, Rose?"

"Yes--I remember," said Lady Caroline. "Only it seemed so
incredible that one could every want to. One's whole idea was to get
away from one's friends."

"And one's husbands."

Again that unseemly plural. But how altogether unseemly, thought
Mrs. Fisher. Such implications. Mrs. Arbuthnot clearly thought so
too, for she had turned red.

"And family affection," said Lady Caroline--or was it the Chianti
speaking? Surely it was the Chianti.

"And the want of family affection," said Mrs. Wilkins--what a
light she was throwing on her home life and real character.

"That wouldn't be so bad," said Lady Caroline. "I'd stay with
that. It would give one room."

"Oh no, no--it's dreadful," cried Mrs. Wilkins. "It's as if one
had no clothes on."

"But I like that," said Lady Caroline.

"Really--" said Mrs. Fisher.

"It's a divine feeling, getting rid of things," said Lady
Caroline, who was talking altogether to Mrs. Wilkins and paid no
attention to the other two.

"Oh, but in a bitter wind to have nothing on and know there never
will be anything on and you going to get colder and colder till at last
you die of it--that's what it was like, living with somebody who didn't
love one."

These confidences, thought Mrs. Fisher . . . and no excuse
whatever for Mrs. Wilkins, who was making them entirely on plain water.
Mrs. Arbuthnot, judging from her face, quite shared Mrs. Fisher's
disapproval; she was fidgeting.

"But didn't he?" asked Lady Caroline--every bit as shamelessly
unreticent as Mrs. Wilkins.

"Mellersh? He showed no signs of it."

"Delicious," murmured Lady Caroline.

"Really--" said Mrs. Fisher.

"I didn't think it was at all delicious. I was miserable. And
now, since I've been here, I simply stare