THE COLLECTED NOVELS OF E. M. DELAFIELD (6 Titles in One Edition). E. M. Delafield
Mrs. Lloyd-Evans smiled with a mixture of reproof and tolerance—reproof at Henry's unseemly analogy, and tolerance since it. was only applied to a foreigner.
"No, dear, not that I know of," she said darkly, with a veiled intimation that there might be much of which she did not, and had better not, know. "But you can see for yourself how unsuitable it would be, apart from the fact that the poor thing would probably be quite bewildered by a large party, since she cannot have seen anything of the sort in that tiny Paris flat—their drawing-room not more than half the size of this room, and most of it taken up with that huge embroidery frame of hers. It would be quite out of the question; and as to my disliking having to entertain, which I certainly do, that is not to be weighed in the balance for a moment, Henry, when it is a clear question of right and wrong, as you agree with me that this is."
"Well, my dear, it is very good of you," said Henry sincerely, Mrs. Lloyd-Evans's eloquence having by this time succeeded in persuading them both that she was the victim of an unescapable duty.
Louis did not view the matter in the same light, when his sister-in-law, led, as she piously supposed, by the hand of Providence, unexpectedly encountered him that very afternoon in Piccadilly, and was enabled to cause the divergence of a considerable stream of pedestrians by earnestly expounding her views to him then and there.
"It is most remarkable, Louis, that you and I, of all people, should meet here and now. I can hardly believe it, though really what I always say is, that London is not such a very large place, after all, since one is constantly running up against someone."
"I am afraid several people are running up against us now, Marianne. Which way are you going?"
"I am going through the Park, because at any rate there are trees of a sort there, and it always makes one think of the country, though the poor things are black instead of green, and have no leaves to speak of. But I dare say you know what I mean."
Louis did.
"But it really is the most curious coincidence possible," pursued his sister-in-law, her active mind again springing to this remarkable aspect of the case. "Will you believe it, Louis, it was only this morning that Henry and I were talking of you, and wishing we could discuss these new plans with you!"
"That was very kind of you. But what new plans, unless you mean my being in London to-day, which was quite unexpected?"
"No, Louis, certainly not. I never ask questions, as you know, and I should not dream of even wondering what on earth can have brought you all the way to London in this mysterious manner, without even letting us know you were coming, and asking us for lunch at the flat, which you could so easily have done."
"As a matter of fact, I thought you were leaving the flat for good this week."
"So we are, Louis," said Mrs. Lloyd-Evans with great rapidity; "but as this is only Tuesday, that leaves four whole days, even if you don't count Sunday, and we are not going home till Saturday afternoon, so that is no argument. But, as I say, one knows that gentlemen frequently have little matters of business about which one knows nothing, and I have not the least wish to pry or seem inquisitive. But all this is beside the point. Tell me about this question of dear little Zella."
"Zella is very well. She has been riding her new mare, which she enjoys."
"Louis, this is all very well," said Mrs. Lloyd-Evans with great earnestness, and once more stopping short in the middle of the way. "But what will riding a new mare lead to, I should like to know, with a girl of Zella's age, and no mother to see to these things?"
"Do you mean you think it is too much for her?" asked the astounded Louis.
"On the contrary, I mean that it is not enough—in fact, it is of no use at all. Zella ought to meet other young people, make friends of her own age, and, in fact, see a little of the world. You would like to see her settled, after all, Louis."
Mrs. Lloyd-Evans belonged to the class of women to whom "settled " is synonymous with "married."
Louis became conscious of this, and temporized feebly.
"I see what you mean."
"One knows that a happy marriage means everything to a girl, once she has really found her mate; and in Zella's case that ought to be done easily," said Mrs. Lloyd-Evans with a kind smile, and evidently under the impression that she was saying something complimentary.
"I disagree with you there. The higher the type, mentally and morally, the more restricted selection becomes, and in Zella's case the question of cosmopolitanism complicates matters. There is small chance of affinity between the complex Anglo-Gallic organism"
"My dear Louis!" interrupted his sister-in-law in a tone which admirably expressed her firmly unuttered "do not talk nonsense."
"Zella has been given a pretty face, and, what I always think is so much more important, is a good, nicely brought-up girl, and any man ought to be pleased and proud to win her. Besides which, it is nonsense to deny that money does smooth the way in many cases, and Zella's fortune"
"Zella has nothing but what I choose to give her," said Louis coolly.
"Of course not, at present. The heir, so long as he is a child, different in nothing from a servant, as I always say," said Mrs. Lloyd-Evans hastily, and in her agitation attributing the Apostle's wisdom to herself.
"But you are not going to pretend, Louis, to me, dear Esmée's only sister, and whom you know so well, that Zella will not inherit Villetswood—at some far, far distant date, of course," she added, apparently with a sense that an emphasis on the remoteness of the date might serve to secure Zella's inheritance.
But Louis continued to remain unaccountably cryptic.
"Zella is, of course, my natural heiress, but Villetswood is entirely in my own hands, and I might sell it to-morrow. When she marries, or if she marries, a suitable provision will be made for her; but she is not to be looked upon as heiress to a property or anything else."
"Louis, you stagger me! said Mrs. Lloyd-Evans, walking faster than ever. "For once I really do not understand you, and you sound to me most callous and unnatural. Not that I want to hurt your feelings or to seem unkind."
Louis wondered rather grimly what adjectives Mrs. Lloyd-Evans would have selected had her desire been to wound.
"But this is beside the point," she resumed with renewed briskness of utterance.
"Zella is not even engaged, nor likely to be at this rate, which is what I really wanted to speak to you about."
"She is very young," said Louis dreamily. "Of course, in time, some suitable arrangement"
He was sufficiently of a Frenchman to feel that some suitable arrangement might well prove to be for his daughter's ultimate happiness.
Mrs. Lloyd-Evans disapprovingly formulated the thought into words.
"That is one of those very foreign ideas that one hoped was dying out," she observed rather severely. "A mariage de convenance can never be a success; and the idea of young people marrying without love is terrible. How can you even suggest it, Louis! The most important question any woman can ever be called upon to decide. . . ."
"To my mind that is a fallacy. The most important question differs for almost every one of us: why should it always be assumed that marriage must be the thing that really matters most? Only the privileged can say that marriage has been the one supreme fact in life; to most of us it is merely an incident."
The scandalized Mrs. Lloyd-Evans for once found herself positively deprived of utterance.
"The conventions forbid us to acknowledge it," observed Louis, apparently talking to the flowers in the Park, "but it is perfectly true."
"No one can be less conventional than I am, Louis, as you very well know; but when it comes to these terrible Continental ideas of Free Love and things, I—I have simply nothing to say."
She said it at considerable length, and concluded:
"And