“I am gratified that you appreciate it, miss. I did my best to make it comfortable for you. I fancy I hear Mr Rooke coming now.”
“I hope the others won’t be long. I’m starving. Has Mrs Parker got something very good for dinner?”
“She has strained every nerve, miss.”
“Then I’m sure it’s worth waiting for. Hullo, Freddie.”
Freddie Rooke, resplendent in evening dress, bustled in, patting his tie with solicitous fingers. It had been right when he had looked in the glass in his bedroom, but you never know about ties. Sometimes they stay right, sometimes they wiggle up sideways. Life is full of these anxieties.
“I shouldn’t touch it,” said Jill. “It looks beautiful, and, if I may say so in confidence, is having a most disturbing effect on my emotional nature. I’m not at all sure I shall be able to resist it right through the evening. It isn’t fair of you to try to alienate the affections of an engaged young person like this.”
Freddie squinted down, and became calmer.
“Hullo, Jill, old thing. Nobody here yet?”
“Well, I’m here,—the petite figure seated on the fender. But perhaps I don’t count.”
“Oh, I didn’t mean that, you know.”
“I should hope not, when I’ve bought a special new dress just to fascinate you. A creation I mean. When they cost as much as this one did, you have to call them names. What do you think of it?”
Freddie seated himself on another section of the fender, and regarded her with the eye of an expert. A snappy dresser, as the technical term is, himself, he appreciated snap in the outer covering of the other sex.
“Topping!” he said spaciously. “No other word for it! All wool and a yard wide! Precisely as mother makes it! You look like a thingummy.”
“How splendid! All my life I’ve wanted to look like a thingummy, but somehow I’ve never been able to manage it.”
“A wood-nymph!” exclaimed Freddie, in a burst of unwonted imagery.
“Wood-nymphs didn’t wear creations.”
“Well, you know what I mean!” He looked at her with honest admiration. “Dash it, Jill, you know, there’s something about you! You’re—what’s the word?—you’ve got such small bones!”
“Ugh! I suppose it’s a compliment, but how horrible it sounds! It makes me feel like a skeleton.”
“I mean to say, you’re—you’re dainty!”
“That’s much better.”
“You look as if you weighed about an ounce and a half! You look like a bit of thistledown! You’re a little fairy princess, dash it!”
“Freddie! This is eloquence!” Jill raised her left hand, and twiddled a ringed finger ostentatiously. “Er—you do realize that I’m bespoke, don’t you, and that my heart, alas, is another’s? Because you sound as if you were going to propose.”
Freddie produced a snowy handkerchief, and polished his eye-glass. Solemnity descended on him like a cloud. He looked at Jill with an earnest, paternal gaze.
“That reminds me,” he said. “I wanted to have, a bit of a talk with you about that—being engaged and all that sort of thing. I’m glad I got you alone before the Curse arrived.”
“Curse? Do you mean Derek’s mother? That sounds cheerful and encouraging.”
“Well, she is, you know,” said Freddie earnestly. “She’s a bird! It would be idle to deny it. She always puts the fear of God into me. I never know what to say to her.”
“Why don’t you try asking her riddles?”
“It’s no joking matter,” persisted Freddie, his amiable face overcast. “Wait till you meet her! You should have seen her at the station this morning. You don’t know what you’re up against!”
“You make my flesh creep, Freddie. What am I up against?”
Freddie poked the fire scientifically, and assisted it with coal.
“It’s this way,” he said. “Of course, dear old Derek’s the finest chap in the world.”
“I know that,” said Jill softly. She patted Freddie’s hand with a little gesture of gratitude. Freddie’s devotion to Derek was a thing that always touched her. She looked thoughtfully into the fire, and her eyes seemed to glow in sympathy with the glowing coals. “There’s nobody like him!”
“But,” continued Freddie, “he always has been frightfully under his mother’s thumb, you know.”