at least have had some definite work in the world; she could have kept
him to his farming, as Mrs. Sales had set herself to do; she would
have had a home to see to and daily interviews with the cook! She
laughed at this decline in her ambition; she no longer expected the
advent of the colossal figure of her young dreams; and she knew this
was the hour when she ought to strike out a new way for herself, to
leave this place which offered her nothing but ease and a continuous,
foredoomed effort after enjoyment; but she also knew that she would
not go. She had not the energy nor the desire. She would drift on,
never submerged by any passion, keeping her head calmly above water,
looking coldly at the interminable sea. This was her conviction, but
she was not without a secret hope that she might at last be carried to
some unknown island, odorous, surprising and her own, where she would,
for the first time, experience some kind of excess.



4

The little dinner was duly given to the Sales. The Sales returned the
compliment; and Mrs. Batty, not to be outdone, offered what could only
adequately be described as a banquet in honour of the bride; there was
a general revival of hospitality, and the Malletts were at every
function. This was Caroline's reward for her instructed enthusiasm for
Christabel Sales, and before long the black sequin dress gave way to a
grey brocade and a purple satin, and the period of mourning was at an
end. For Rose, these entertainments were only interesting because the
Sales were there, and she hardly knew at what moment annoyance began
to mingle definitely with her pity for the little lady with the wary
eyes, or when the annoyance almost overcame the pity.