I often wonder why the young always take us ancients for nambypamby creatures. This I know for at the Valade estate it was talked of very much, even that they supposed me there to be the daughter of Suzanne. Instinctively she knew—some human recollection she had inherited—that she must not disturb him in this man-agony. Passing the old rectory, and still older church, with its reverend screen of trees, and slowly ascending a hill side, from whence he obtained enchanting peeps of the spire and college of Harrow, he reached the cluster of well-built houses which constitute the village of Neasdon. It was a cheerful, irresponsible, shamelessly hard-up family in the key of faded green and flattened purple, and the girls went on from the High School to the Fadden Art School and a bright, eventful life of art student dances, Socialist meetings, theatre galleries, talking about work, and even, at intervals, work; and ever and again they drew Ann Veronica from her sound persistent industry into the circle of these experiences.
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