'Now, that's what the books call _flirtation_,' she said to herself.
'I think I can do that.'
And on the whole she could, vastly better than might have been
expected of her birth and breeding.
At six o'clock a note was delivered for her. Richard wrote from an
hotel in the neighbourhood, asking her to come to him. She found him
in a private sitting-room, taking a meal.
'Why didn't you come to the house?' she asked. 'You knew mother
never comes down-stairs.'
Richard looked at her with lowered brows.
'You mean to say she's doing that in earnest?'
'That she is She comes down early in the morning and gets all the
food she wants for the day. I heard her cooking something in a
frying-pan to-day. She hasn't been out of the house yet.'
'Does she know about Jane?'
'No. I know what it would be if I went and told her.'
He ate in silence. Alice waited.
'You must go and see Emma,' was his next remark. 'Tell her there's a
grave in Manor Park Cemetery; her father and mother were buried
there, you know. Keene 'll look after it all and he'll come and tell
you what to do.'
'Why did you come up?'
'Oh, I couldn't talk about these things in letters. You'll have to
tell mother; she might want to go to the funeral.'
'I don't see why I should do all your disagreeable work, Dick!'
'Very well, don't do it,' he replied sullenly, throwing down his
knife and fork.
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