She felt again her delighted astonishment at sight of the pair of them coming up the garden. She had washed her hair and was drying it in the sun when they appeared; it was spread in a mass round her shoulders and down to her waist, and she was brushing the last of the damp out of it. ‘Hullo!’ said Martin. ‘Hullo!’ They came smiling up to her. ‘Are you busy?’ said Martin. ‘No, only washing my hair. Please excuse it.’ ‘We like it,’ said Roddy. He watched her brushing, combing it and shaking it back over her shoulders as if fascinated. ‘Are you doing anything this afternoon?’ said Martin. ‘Oh no!’--eagerly. ‘Shall we be in the way?’ ‘Of course not.’ ‘Then may we come to tea?’ ‘Oh! Will you really?’ ‘Julian has got some tiresome people we don’t like, so we escaped, and Roddy suggested coming to find you.’ Roddy raised his eyebrows, smiling faintly. ‘Well, we both suggested it,’ continued Martin with a blush. ‘May we really stay?’ Which, oh, which of them had suggested it?... ‘Will you wait here while I go and put my hair right?’ ‘It’s not dry yet,’ said Roddy. ‘Let me brush it at the back for you.’ She stood still in embarrassed pleasure while he brushed and combed her hair. ‘You do it beautifully. You don’t pull a bit.’ ‘I’m a good hairdresser. I brush my mother’s when her maid’s out.’ ‘Has she got lovely hair?’ ‘Goodish. Very long. Not such lumps of it as this though.’ He took up a handful and weighed it. ‘Extraordinary stuff.’ It was the first time that she had ever heard him mention his mother. Why, Roddy must have a home life, a whole background of influences and associations of which she knew nothing.... She felt startled and anxious; and the old ache at being left out, failing to possess, stirred in her. She saw him brushing his mother’s hair with careful hands. His mother had long dark hair perfumed deliciously. She had a pale society face, and she sat before her brilliantly lit dressing table wearing a rich wrap and pearls, and put red on her lips, and made Roddy fetch and carry for her about the bedroom. They talked and laughed together. She had never heard of Judith. Judith dismissed the picture. Roddy went on brushing, while Martin stared and smiled at her. They made a most intimate-looking little group. She thought of herself for a moment as their sister. Roddy would often brush her hair for her if she was his sister, or if.... ‘There!’ said Roddy. ‘_Je vous félicite, Mademoiselle._’ He adjusted her tortoiseshell slide and bowed to her with the hairbrush over his heart. ‘I love your garden,’ said Martin. She showed them the garden and then the house. They asked questions and admired the furniture and the rare books she picked out for them in the library. ‘When Daddy comes back you must meet him,’ she said. ‘He’d love to show you his books.’ She was sure he would like such appreciative young men. ‘I’d like to meet him awfully,’ said Martin. ‘I’ve often heard about him.’ She glowed.