Collected Works of E. M. Delafield by E. M. Delafield

Author:E. M. Delafield [Delafield, E. M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9788026842606
Publisher: e-artnow ebooks
Published: 2015-07-21T16:00:00+00:00

XVII

Table of Contents

“A very cold north wind,” said Sir Julian, entering the room set ready for a General Committee meeting.

“Damnably cold,” said Mark Easter, who never swore.

Sir Julian made an elaborate rearrangement of the pencils and blotting-paper on the table in front of him and then looked at Mark.

They were the first arrivals.

Mark’s gaze met Sir Julian’s, but it was unusually clouded.

“I don’t know what’s the matter with the place,” he said irritably.

“What’s happened?”

“Nothing at all, that I know of. It’s just in the air. Fuller’s like a bear with a sore head, and those two women — Farmer and Sandiloe — whispering together in corners and exchanging glances like conspirators in a gunpowder plot. What on earth is the matter with them all?”

There was silence, and then Mark said, still in the same irritable voice:

“I suppose they think one’s a perfect fool. If I’ve had one of them into my office this morning, I’ve had half a dozen — on the flimsiest excuses you ever heard of in your life. I don’t know what they expected to find there, I’m sure.”

If Sir Julian could have enlightened his agent on the point, he did not do so.

But he became himself very acutely aware of the state of tension pervading the College during the course of the committee meeting. Mark, contrary to his usual habit, scarcely spoke at all; Mr. Fuller sat with a face like a thundercloud, and, looking up occasionally under his closely-knitted eyebrows, fixed inscrutable eyes upon Miss Marchrose opposite.

She looked tired and nervous, and Sir Julian remembered that it was less than a week since he had thought her looking beautiful at Iris Easter’s wedding.

Edna, he noticed, did not glance at Miss Marchrose, but from time to time her eyes rested thoughtfully upon Mark Easter.

Even Alderman Bellew, far from susceptible to shades of atmosphere, struck Sir Julian as being vaguely and uneasily watchful.

The meeting was poorly attended, and when it was over Mark said rather doubtfully to Lady Rossiter:

“You'll have some tea before you go, won’t you?”

“Thank you,” she said graciously. “Only if you’re quite sure that it wouldn’t put anyone out, give any extra trouble.”

“I can find out the state of the commissariat first, if you like,” he rejoined, and left the room.

Miss Marchrose had gone already.

Edna’s manner altered to one of businesslike determination on the instant.

“I’m going to make a little suggestion,” she said clearly.

The Alderman looked up, and at the same instant Fairfax Fuller took two steps forward.

“It isn't, perhaps, a very easy thing for me to say,” Lady Rossiter said unfalteringly, “but we all know one another here. And I believe — oh, so intensely! — in having courage. But never mind that. I needn’t go into any details, but it's this — I think the general feeling amongst the staff is that there might be some slight alteration in the duties of the Lady Superintendent. They don’t altogether like her doing so much. It’s natural enough, isn’t it? Perhaps they feel that

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