Page:Walpole - Fortitude.djvu/166

 you never go and hear the Rev. Mr. M. J. Valdwell?” and Peter had to confess ignorance.

“Really! Well, it 'ud do you young men a world of good.”

He assured her that he would go.

“I will lend you a volume of his sermons if you would care to read them.”

Peter said that he would be delighted. The meal was soon over, and every one returned to the sitting-room. They sat about in a desolate way, and Peter discovered afterwards that Mrs. Brockett liked every one to be there together for half an hour to encourage friendly relations. That object could scarcely be said to be achieved, because there was very little conversation and many anxious glances were flung at the clocks. Mrs. Brockett, however, sat sternly in a chair and sewed, and no one ventured to leave the room.

One pleasant thing happened. Peter was standing by the window turning over some fashion papers of an ancient date, when he saw that Miss Monogue was at his elbow. Now that she was close to him he observed that she looked thin and delicate; her dress was worn and old-fashioned, she looked as though she ought to be wrapped up warmly and taken care of—but her eyes were large and soft and grey, and although her wrists looked strangely white and sharp through her black dress her hands were beautiful. Her voice was soft with an Irish brogue lingering pleasantly amongst her words:

“I hope that you will like being here.”

“I'm sure I shall,” he said, smiling. He felt grateful to her for talking to him.

“You're very fortunate to have come to Mrs. Brockett's straight away. You mayn't think so now, because Mrs. Brockett is alarming at first, and we none of us—” she locked round her with a little laugh—“can strike the onlooker as very cheerful company. But really Madame has a heart of gold—you'll find that out in time. She's had a terribly hard time of it herself, and I believe it's a great struggle to keep things going now. But she's helped all kinds of people in her time.”

Peter looked, with new eyes, at the lady so sternly sewing.

“You don't know,” Miss Monogue went on in her soft,