Miss Lathom; John, with Mr. Jervis for his
handicap, played against Anthony and Mr. Norris. The very young Norris
fielded. All afternoon he had hoped to distinguish himself by catching
some ball in full flight as it went "out." It was a pure and high
ambition, for he knew he was so young and unimportant that only the eyes
of God and of his mother watched him.

Michael had dropped out of it. He sat beside Dorothy under the tree of
Heaven and watched Veronica.

"Veronica's wonderful," he said. "Did you see that?"

Dorothy had seen.

Veronica had kept Aunt Emmeline quiet all afternoon. She bad made Bartie
eat an ice under the impression that it would be good for him. And now
she had gone with Morrie to the table where the drinks were, and had
taken his third glass of champagne cup from him and made him drink
lemonade instead.

"How does she do it?" said Michael.

"I don't know. She doesn't know herself. I used to think I could manage
people, but I'm not in it with Ronny. She ought to be a wardress in a
lunatic asylum."

"Now look at that!"

Veronica had returned to the group formed by Grannie and the Aunties and
some strangers. The eyes of the four Fleming women had looked after her
as she went from them; they looked towards her now as if some great
need, some great longing were appeased by her return.

Grannie made a place by her side for the young girl; she took her arm,
the young white arm, bare from the elbow in its short sleeve, and made
it lie across her knees. From time to time Grannie's yellow, withered
hand stroked the smooth, warm white arm, or held it. Emmeline and Edith
squatted on the grass at Veronica's feet; their worn faces and the worn
face of Louie looked at her. They hung on her, fascinated, curiously
tranquillized, as if they drank from her youth.

"It's funny," Dorothy said, "when you think how they used to hate her."

"It's horrible," said Michael.

He got up and took Veronica away.

He was lying at her feet now on the grass in the far corner of the lawn
under the terrace.

"Why do you go to them?" he said.

"Because they want me."

"You mustn't go when they want you. You mustn't let them get hold of
you."

"They don't get hold of me--nothing gets hold of me. I want to help
them. They say it does them good to have me with them."

"I should think it did do them good! They feed on you, Ronny. I can see
it by the way they look at you. You'll die of them if you don't give
it up."