‘We know some cold facts, of course. We know that father is much older than mother.’ ‘I can’t understand why such an old chap should be so keen to kiss me.’ ‘Mother is forty,’ Amy says in a low voice. ‘I thought she was almost more than forty,’ Cosmo says in a still lower voice. Amy shudders. ‘Don’t be so ungenerous, Cosmo.’ But she has to add. ‘Of course we must be prepared to see her look older.’ ‘Why?’ ‘She will be rather yellow, coming from India, you know. They will both be a little yellow.’ They exchange forlorn glances, but Cosmo says manfully, ‘We shan’t be any the less fond of them for that, Amy.’ ‘No, indeed.’ They clasp hands on it, and Cosmo has an inspiration. ‘Do you think we should have these yellow flowers in the room? They might feel--eh?’ ‘How thoughtful of you, dear. I shall remove them at once. After all, Cosmo, we seem to know a good deal about them; and then we know some other things by heredity.’ ‘Heredity? That’s drink, isn’t it?’ She who has been to so many theatres smiles at him. ‘No, you boy! It’s something in a play. It means that if we know ourselves well, we know our parents also. From thinking of myself, Cosmo, I know mother. In her youth she was one who did not love easily; but when she loved once it was for aye. A nature very difficult to understand, but profoundly interesting. I can feel her _within me_, as she was when she walked down the aisle on that strong arm, to honour and obey him henceforth for aye. What cared they that they had to leave their native land, they were together for aye. And so--’ Her face is flushed. Cosmo interrupts selfishly. ‘What about father?’ ‘Very nice, unless you mention rupees to him. You see the pensions of all Indian officers are paid in rupees, which means that for every 2s. due to them they get only 1s. 4d. If you mention rupees to any one of them he flares up like a burning paper.’ ‘I know. I shall take care. But what would you say he was like by heredity?’ ‘Quiet, unassuming, yet of an intensely proud nature. One who if he was deceived would never face his fellow-creatures, but would bow his head before the wind and die. A strong man.’ ‘Do you mean, Amy, that he takes all that from me?’ ‘I mean that is the sort of man _my_ mother would love.’ Cosmo nods. ‘Yes, but he is just as likely to kiss me as ever.’ The return of Ginevra makes him feel that this room is no place for him. ‘I think,’ he says, ‘I’ll go and walk up and down outside, and have a look at them as they’re getting out of the cab. My plan, you see, is first to kiss mother. Then I’ve made up four things to say to father, and it’s after I’ve said them that the awkward time will come. So then I say, “I wonder what is in the evening papers”; and out I slip, and when I come back you will all have settled down to ordinary life, same as other people. That’s my plan.’ He goes off, not without hope, and Ginevra shrugs her shoulders forgivingly.