Sir George Tressady — Volume I by Ward, Humphry, Mrs., 1851-1920

"It struck me--what she said of the men under our feet. They're at it now, Letty, hewing and sweating. Why are they there, and you and I here? I'm _precious_ glad, aren't you? But I'm not going to make believe that there's no difference. Don't let's he hypocrites, whatever we are."

Letty was perplexed and a little troubled. He had only shown her this excitability once before--on that odd uncomfortable night when he made her sit with him on the Embankment. Whenever it came it seemed to upset her dominant impression of him. But yet it excited her too--it appealed to something undeveloped--some yearning, protecting instinct which was new to her.

She suddenly put up her hand and touched his hair.

"You talk so oddly, George. I think sometimes"--she laughed with a pretty gaiety--"you'll go bodily over to Lady Maxwell and her 'set' some day!"

George made a contemptuous sound.

"May the Lord preserve us from quacks," he said lightly. "One had better be a hypocrite. Look, little woman, there is a shower coming. Shall we turn home?"

They walked home, chatting and laughing. At their own front door the butler handed George a telegram. He opened it and read:

"Must come down to consult you on important business--shall arrive at Perth about 9.30.--Amelia Tressady."

Letty, who was looking over George's shoulder, gave a little cry of dismay.

Then, to avoid the butler's eyes and ears, they turned hurriedly into George's smoking-room which opened off the hall, and shut the door.

"George! she has come to get more money out of you!" cried Letty, anger and annoyance written in every line of her little frowning face.

"Well, darling, she can't get blood out of a stone!" said George, crushing the telegram in his hand and throwing it away. "It is a little too bad of my mother, I think, to spoil our honeymoon time like this. However, it can't be helped. Will you tell them to get her room ready?"

CHAPTER IX

"Now, my dear George! I do think I may claim at least that you should remember I am your _mother_!"--the speaker raised a fan from her knee, and used it with some vehemence. "Of course I can't help seeing that you don't treat me as you ought to do. I don't want to complain of Letty--I daresay she was taken by surprise--but all I can say as to her reception of me last night is, that it wasn't pretty--that's all; it wasn't _pretty_. My room felt like an ice-house--Justine tells me nobody has slept there for months--and no fire until just the moment I arrived; and--and no flowers on the dressing-table--no little _attentions_, in fact. I can only say it was not what I am accustomed to. My feelings overcame me; that poor dear Justine will tell you what a state she found me in. She cried herself, to see me so upset."