"She doesn't want to leave me," said Mrs. Ogden with a little smile.
"She thinks I'm such a helpless creature!"
"But, surely----" Mrs. Benson began, and then stopped.
The atmosphere of this house was beginning to depress her, and in a
sudden flash she realized the cause of her depression. There was
something shabby about everything here, both physical and mental.
Inanimate things, and people, were letting themselves go, sliding; Mrs.
Ogden was sliding very fast--and Joan? She let her eyes dwell on the
girl attentively. No, Joan had only begun to slip a little as yet, but
there were signs; her mouth drooped too much at the corners, her lips
were too pale and her strong hands fidgeted restlessly, but otherwise
she was intact so far, and how spruce she looked! Mrs. Benson envied
this talent for tidiness, which had never been hers. Yes, on the whole,
Joan's clothes suited her, it would be difficult to conceive of her
dressed otherwise; still, the short hair was rather exaggerated. She
wondered if Richard would make her let it grow when they were married,
for, of course, she would marry him in the end.
"So Elizabeth has gone to London," she said after a silence, feeling
that she had made a bad slip the moment the words were out.
"Yes, she went more than a week ago," Joan replied.
Mrs. Ogden looked up with interest. "But surely not for long? How queer
of you not to have told me, dear."
"I thought I had," said Joan untruthfully.
"I heard from her this morning," Mrs. Benson plunged on, feeling that
she might as well be killed for a sheep as a lamb. "She's got a very
good post as librarian to some society."
Then Elizabeth was in London!
"Well, of all the extraordinary things!" said Mrs. Ogden, genuinely
surprised. "Joan, you _never_ told me a word!"
"I didn't know about the post as librarian, Mother."
"No, but you knew that Elizabeth had left Seabourne for good."
"Yes, I knew that----"
"Well then, fancy your not telling me; fancy her not coming here to say
good-bye--extraordinary!" Her voice was shaking a little with excitement
now. "What made her go off suddenly, like that? Surely you and she
haven't quarrelled, Joan?"
Joan looked at Mrs. Benson; did she know? Probably, as Elizabeth had
written to her. Mrs. Benson smiled and nodded sympathetically, her
motherly eyes said plainly: "Never mind, dear, it's not so bad as you
think; you've got my Richard." But Joan ignored the comfort. What could
Mrs. Benson know of all this, what could anyone know but Elizabeth and
herself.
She said: "I think she was tired of Seabourne, Mother. Elizabeth was
always very clever, and there's nothing to be clever about here."
Mrs. Ogden smiled quietly. "Elizabeth was certainly very clever; but
what about her interest in you?"
"Yes, she took a great interest in me; she believed in me, I think,
but--oh, well, she couldn't wait for ever, could she?"