suffered from an inferiority complex. He found it so difficult to believe that a girl like her could really care for a bird so short and pink as himself. He was always afraid that one of these days it would suddenly dawn upon her what a mistake she had made in supposing herself to be in love with him and would race off and fall in love with somebody else. Not Pilbeam, of course, but suppose somebody tall and lissom came along...
Sue was pressing her point. She wanted this thing settled and out of the way. The only cloud on her happiness was that tendency of her Ronald's towards jealousy, to which Hugo Carmody had alluded so feelingly in his conversation with Monty Bodkin. Jealousy when two people had come together and knew that they loved one another always seemed to her silly and incomprehensible. She had the frank, uncomplicated mind of a child.
'You promise you won't worry about him again?'
'Absolutely not.'
'Nor about anybody else?'
'Positively not. Couldn't possibly happen again.' He paused. 'The only thing is,' he said broodingly, 'I am so dashed short!' 'You're just the right height.' 'And pink.'
'My favourite colour. You're a precious little pink cherub, and I love you.' 'You really do?' 'Of course I do.'
'But suppose you changed your mind?' 'You are a chump, Ronnie.'
'I know I'm a chump, but I still say - Suppose you changed your mind?'
'It's much more likely that you'll change yours.' 'What!'
'Suppose when your mother arrives she talks you over?'
'What absolute rot!'
'I don't imagine she will approve of me.'
'Of course she'll approve of you.'
'Lady Constance doesn't.'
Ronnie uttered a spirited cry.
'Aunt Constance! I was trying to think who it was we were talking about when that Pilbeam blister came to a head. Listen. If Aunt Constance tries to come the old aristocrat over you while I'm away, punch her in the eye. Don't put up for a moment with any pursed-lip-and-lorgnette stuff.'
'And what do I do when your mother reaches for her lorgnette ?'
'Oh, you won't have anything of that sort from Mother.'
'Hasn't she got a lorgnette?'
'Mother's all right.'
'Not like Lady Constance?'
'A bit, to look at. But quite different, really. Aunt Constance is straight Queen Elizabeth. Mother's a cheery soul.' 'She'll try to talk you over, all the same.' 'She won't.'
'She will. "Ronald, my dear boy, really! This absurd infatuation. Most extraordinary!" I can feel it in my bones.'
' Mother couldn't talk like that if you paid her. I keep telling you she's a genial egg.'
'She won't like me.'
'Of course she'll like you. Don't be ... what the dickens is that word.'
Sue-was biting her lip with her small, very white tooth. Her blue eyes had clouded.
'I wish you weren't going away, Ronnie.' 'It's only for tonight.' 'Have you really got to go?'
'Afraid so. Can't very well let poor old George down. He's relying on me. Besides, I want to watch his work at the altar rails. Pick up some hints on technique which'll come in useful when you and I...'
'If ever we do.'
'Do stop talking like that,' begged Ronnie.
'I'm sorry. But I do wish you hadn't got to go away. I'm scared. It's this place. It's so big and old. It makes me feel like a puppy that's got into a cathedral.'
Ronnie turned and gave his boyhood home an appraising glance.
'I suppose it is a fairly decent-sized old shack,' he admitted, having run his eye up to the battlements and back again. 'I never really gave the thing much thought before, but, now you mention it, I have seen smaller places. But there's nothing about it to scare anybody.'
'There is ^ if you were born and brought up in a villa in the suburbs. I feel that at any moment all the ghosts of your ancestors will come popping out, pointing at me and shouting "What business have you here, you little rat ?"'
'They'd better not let me catch them at it,' said Ronnie warmly. 'Don't be so... what on earth is that word ? I know it begins with an m. You mustn't feel like that. You've gone like a breeze
Sue was pressing her point. She wanted this thing settled and out of the way. The only cloud on her happiness was that tendency of her Ronald's towards jealousy, to which Hugo Carmody had alluded so feelingly in his conversation with Monty Bodkin. Jealousy when two people had come together and knew that they loved one another always seemed to her silly and incomprehensible. She had the frank, uncomplicated mind of a child.
'You promise you won't worry about him again?'
'Absolutely not.'
'Nor about anybody else?'
'Positively not. Couldn't possibly happen again.' He paused. 'The only thing is,' he said broodingly, 'I am so dashed short!' 'You're just the right height.' 'And pink.'
'My favourite colour. You're a precious little pink cherub, and I love you.' 'You really do?' 'Of course I do.'
'But suppose you changed your mind?' 'You are a chump, Ronnie.'
'I know I'm a chump, but I still say - Suppose you changed your mind?'
'It's much more likely that you'll change yours.' 'What!'
'Suppose when your mother arrives she talks you over?'
'What absolute rot!'
'I don't imagine she will approve of me.'
'Of course she'll approve of you.'
'Lady Constance doesn't.'
Ronnie uttered a spirited cry.
'Aunt Constance! I was trying to think who it was we were talking about when that Pilbeam blister came to a head. Listen. If Aunt Constance tries to come the old aristocrat over you while I'm away, punch her in the eye. Don't put up for a moment with any pursed-lip-and-lorgnette stuff.'
'And what do I do when your mother reaches for her lorgnette ?'
'Oh, you won't have anything of that sort from Mother.'
'Hasn't she got a lorgnette?'
'Mother's all right.'
'Not like Lady Constance?'
'A bit, to look at. But quite different, really. Aunt Constance is straight Queen Elizabeth. Mother's a cheery soul.' 'She'll try to talk you over, all the same.' 'She won't.'
'She will. "Ronald, my dear boy, really! This absurd infatuation. Most extraordinary!" I can feel it in my bones.'
' Mother couldn't talk like that if you paid her. I keep telling you she's a genial egg.'
'She won't like me.'
'Of course she'll like you. Don't be ... what the dickens is that word.'
Sue-was biting her lip with her small, very white tooth. Her blue eyes had clouded.
'I wish you weren't going away, Ronnie.' 'It's only for tonight.' 'Have you really got to go?'
'Afraid so. Can't very well let poor old George down. He's relying on me. Besides, I want to watch his work at the altar rails. Pick up some hints on technique which'll come in useful when you and I...'
'If ever we do.'
'Do stop talking like that,' begged Ronnie.
'I'm sorry. But I do wish you hadn't got to go away. I'm scared. It's this place. It's so big and old. It makes me feel like a puppy that's got into a cathedral.'
Ronnie turned and gave his boyhood home an appraising glance.
'I suppose it is a fairly decent-sized old shack,' he admitted, having run his eye up to the battlements and back again. 'I never really gave the thing much thought before, but, now you mention it, I have seen smaller places. But there's nothing about it to scare anybody.'
'There is ^ if you were born and brought up in a villa in the suburbs. I feel that at any moment all the ghosts of your ancestors will come popping out, pointing at me and shouting "What business have you here, you little rat ?"'
'They'd better not let me catch them at it,' said Ronnie warmly. 'Don't be so... what on earth is that word ? I know it begins with an m. You mustn't feel like that. You've gone like a breeze
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