"Yes," she answered. "Will you be coming alone?""That's the idea," answered Flossie; "a heart to heart talk between you and me, and nobody else. Half-past four. Don't forget."Joan walked on slowly. She had the worried feeling with which, once or twice, when a schoolgirl, she had crawled up the stairs to bed after the head mistress had informed her that she would see her in her private room at eleven o'clock the next morning, leaving her to guess what about. It occurred to her, in Trafalgar Square, that she had promised to take tea with the Greysons the next afternoon, to meet some big pot from America. She would have to get out of that. She felt it wouldn't do to put off Flossie.
She went to bed wakeful. It was marvellously like being at school again. What could Flossie want to see her about that was so important? She tried to pretend to herself that she didn't know.
After all, perhaps it wasn't that.
But she knew that it was the instant Flossie put up her hands in order to take off her hat. Flossie always took off her hat when she meant to be unpleasant. It was her way of pulling up her sleeves. They had their tea first. They seemed both agreed that that would be best. And then Flossie pushed back her chair and sat up.
She had just the head mistress expression. Joan wasn't quite sure she oughtn't to stand. But, controlling the instinct, leant back in her chair, and tried to look defiant without feeling it.
"How far are you going?" demanded Flossie.
Joan was not in a comprehending mood.
"If you're going the whole hog, that's something I can understand,"continued Flossie. "If not, you'd better pull up.""What do you mean by the whole hog?" requested Joan, assuming dignity.
"Oh, don't come the kid," advised Flossie. "If you don't mind being talked about yourself, you might think of him. If Carleton gets hold of it, he's done for.""'A little bird whispers to me that Robert Phillips was seen walking across Richmond Park the other afternoon in company with Miss Joan Allway, formerly one of our contributors.' Is that going to end his political career?" retorted Joan with fine sarcasm.
Flossie fixed a relentless eye upon her. "He'll wait till the bird has got a bit more than that to whisper to him," she suggested.
"There'll be nothing more," explained Joan. "So long as my friendship is of any assistance to Robert Phillips in his work, he's going to have it. What use are we going to be in politics--what's all the fuss about, if men and women mustn't work together for their common aims and help one another?""Why can't you help him in his own house, instead of wandering all about the country?" Flossie wanted to know.
"So I do," Joan defended herself. "I'm in and out there till I'm sick of the hideous place. You haven't seen the inside. And his wife knows all about it, and is only too glad.""Does she know about Richmond Park--and the other places?" asked Flossie.
"She wouldn't mind if she did," explained Joan. "And you know what she's like! How can one think what one's saying with that silly, goggle-eyed face in front of one always."Flossie, since she had become engaged, had acquired quite a matronly train of thought. She spoke kindly, with a little grave shake of her head. "My dear," she said, "the wife is always in the way. You'd feel just the same whatever her face was like."Joan grew angry. "If you choose to suspect evil, of course you can," she answered with hauteur. "But you might have known me better. I admire the man and sympathize with him. All the things I dream of are the things he is working for. I can do more good by helping and inspiring him"--she wished she had not let slip that word "inspire." She knew that Flossie would fasten upon it--"than I can ever accomplish by myself. And I mean to do it." She really did feel defiant, now.
"I know, dear," agreed Flossie, "you've both of you made up your minds it shall always remain a beautiful union of twin spirits.
Unfortunately you've both got bodies--rather attractive bodies.""We'll keep it off that plane, if you don't mind," answered Joan with a touch of severity.
"I'm willing enough," answered Flossie. "But what about Old Mother Nature? She's going to be in this, you know.""Take off your glasses, and look at it straight," she went on, without giving Joan time to reply. "What is it in us that 'inspires' men? If it's only advice and sympathy he's after, what's wrong with dear old Mrs. Denton? She's a good walker, except now and then, when she's got the lumbago. Why doesn't he get her to 'inspire' him?""It isn't only that," explained Joan. "I give him courage. Ialways did have more of that than is any use to a woman. He wants to be worthy of my belief in him. What is the harm if he does admire me--if a smile from me or a touch of the hand can urge him to fresh effort? Suppose he does love me--"Flossie interrupted. "How about being quite frank?" she suggested.
