“I wish she’d come before. I like old Mary, and I haven’t seen her for an age. Is Julian coming too?” “I don’t suppose so. He and Father have had a dreadful row.” “What about?” “He wouldn’t lend us any of the money he profiteered out of those collapsible huts.” “Well, I call it rather cheek of Father to have asked him.” “It was to be on a mortgage of course; but I quite see it wouldn’t have been much of an investment for Julian. However, Father seems to think it was his duty as a son-in-law to have let us have it. We’re nearly on the rocks, you know.” “So I’ve been told a dozen times, but the place looks much the same as ever.” “That’s because Father and Mother can’t get out of their grooves, and there are so few economies which seem worth while. I believe we need nearly fifty thousand to clear the estate.” “But it’s silly to do nothing.” “I don’t see what we can do. But I never could understand about mortgages.” “Nor could I. The only thing I can make out is that our grandfather was a pretty awful fool.” “He couldn’t read the future. He couldn’t tell the price of land was going down with a bump, and that there would be a European war. I believe we’d have been all right if it hadn’t been for the war.” “No we shouldn’t—we were going down hill before that. The war only hurried things on.” “Well certainly it didn’t do for us what it did for Julian—Seventy thousand pounds that man’s made out of blood.” “Then I really do think he might let us have some of it. What’s Mary’s opinion?” Jenny shrugged. “Oh, I dunno. He’s had a row with her too.” “What?—about the same thing?” “No—about a man she’s friends with. It’s ridiculous really, for he’s years and years older than she is—a retired naval officer—and awfully nice; I lunched with them both once in town. But it pleases Julian to be jealous, and I believe poor Mary’s had a hideous time.” “Lord! What upheavals since I was home last! Why doesn’t anyone ever write and tell me about these things?” “Because we’re all too worried and too lazy. But you’ve heard everything now—and you really must come down and see Peter.” “I’m coming in a moment. But tell me first—has he changed at all? It’s more than a year since I saw him.” “I don’t think he’s changed much, except that he’s got stouter.” “I wonder what he’ll do with himself now he’s home. Is there really a rumour, or have I only dreamed, that he’s keen on Stella Mount?” “Oh, I believe he’s keen enough. But she hasn’t got a penny. Father will be sick if he marries her.” She switched off the light, and the window changed from a deep, undetailed blue to a pallid, star-pricked grey, swept across by the tossing branches of trees. § 5