The E. M. Delafield Boxed Set - 6 Novels in One Edition - E. M. Delafield

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bought at one of those big Parisian shops is not certain to be extremely fashionable and je ne sais quoi."

      In recognition, therefore, of this intangible virtue emanating from Zella's Paris frock, Mrs. Lloyd-Evans said no more, and Zella remained satisfied, both from her father's expression, whenever his eyes rested upon her, and from the frequent glances which she manoeuvred to obtain from the long mirrors which surrounded her.

      "And how did you leave the Sisters?" suddenly inquired Mrs. Lloyd-Evans, when they were seated in the dining-room.

      "Oh," said Zella, slightly embarrassed, "they were all very well."

      She wondered what Mrs. Lloyd-Evans would have said had she replied, as she might have done with truth, that a novena was being made at the convent for Reverend Mother's hay-fever, which was recurring with its annual violence, and that Mother Pauline's sprained wrist was enveloped in a bandage daily soaked in miraculous water from Lourdes.

      "Poor things! it is a very gentle, aimless, placid existence, no doubt. I dare say it preserves their health wonderfully."

      Zella thought of the inexorable bell which she knew clanged out its daily summons at five o'clock, and on the first stroke of which each nun rose instantly from her pallet of straw. She thought of the day's work, the teaching and praying and singing, and no doubt the manual labour performed out of sight, the scanty meals and coarse fare, which made up convent existence.

      A curious sort of dismay began to take possession of her.

      "What I always say," observed Mrs. Lloyd-Evans, "is that one was not meant to shut oneself up between four walls. After all, God made the world and meant us to enjoy it, and it seems to me that one is dishonouring His gifts by shutting oneself away from them."

      Henry looked extremely uncomfortable.

      "Are you glad to leave school, Zella?" he asked desperately.

      Zella looked down at her pretty frock and round at the brightly lighted room, and answered, with a sense that she was crossing some sort of Rubicon of which only she knew the existence:

      Yes, Uncle Henry, I am very glad."

      "That's right. I expect you'll begin to enjoy yourself in earnest soon."

      "I was just telling Louis, Henry, that so many women enter a Sisterhood simply because they have nothing better to do with their lives," said the inexorable Mrs. Lloyd-Evans. "' There is always a little tragedy hidden under the veil,' is what I always say—a disappointment in love, or something of the kind."

      Zella wondered resentfully whether Aunt Marianne was not talking at her niece. Nevertheless, the words rather impressed her. Was this how people in the world viewed that high and holy calling, a religious vocation?

      Zella turned to Henry Lloyd-Evans, who was staring self-consciously into his plate.

      "What do you think, Uncle Henry?"

      He looked rather dismayed.

      "I don't know much about Sisterhoods myself; but— well, all that sort of thing's rather bad form, don't you know, isn't it? Try some caviare, Zella."

      The verdict was spoken.

      Zella, chameleon-like, had already, though half consciously, taken her colour from her surroundings. It was in this world that she was now to move, and to its standards that she would adapt her own.

      That night in bed she cried a very little, rather vaguely, and half-despising herself for the ease with which her scale of values had once more shifted.

      What, again, was Truth?

      She spent a delirious fortnight in the selection of clothes. The convent phase was over.

      XIX

       Table of Contents

      TOWARDS the end of April Zella was astounded, and rather dismayed, by the news that Muriel Lloyd-Evans was engaged to be married.

      She had never supposed that Muriel at eighteen would prove any more charming than she had been at fourteen, and still less that she would be sufficiently so to attract serious attention. But it appeared that the accepted Captain Carruthers was only one of many admirers who had haunted the Lloyd-Evans's flat in Sloane Street during the past winter.

      Nevertheless, wrote Mrs. Lloyd-Evans, there had never been the slightest doubt, from the first moment they saw how things were going; and Muriel and her fiancé, who, it appeared, was always known as Chumps, were simply madly in love, and so radiantly happy that it was Like having perpetual sunshine in the house. The only cloud on this felicity was that Chumps's regiment was to go to Egypt in October, and consequently the wedding was to take place as soon as possible, probably at the end of July. Would Zella come and stay at the flat for a fortnight before the wedding, as she must, of course, be bridesmaid, and Muriel and Aunt Marianne would so love to have her?

      Muriel's briefer note was to the same purpose. Zella wrote congratulations and good wishes and an acceptance. She looked forward to staying in London for the first time since leaving school, and, moreover, the spectacle of a madly-in-love and radiantly happy Muriel seemed to her worthy of consideration.

      When she actually arrived at the Sloane Street flat, Zella felt suddenly nervous. She had seen Muriel a year ago, still in the stage of ankle-length skirts and plaited hair. Surely the wonderful experiences of falling in love and becoming engaged must have altered her.

      Her first impression confirmed the supposition. Muriel looked taller, and from schoolgirl shapelessness had evolved a very pretty figure. Her face, except for soft youthful contour and freshness of colouring, could not have been called pretty, but her thick fair hair was swept into becoming waves and coils, and she was prettily dressed.

      She was far more joyous and animated than Zella had ever seen her, and, from being silent and inarticulate, had become almost overwhelmingly talkative.

      "Isn't this ripping, Zella? I am glad to see you. I hope you won't mind being frightfully squashed; this flat is simply tiny, and you know what a wedding in a house is. How's Uncle Louis? it was perfectly ripping of him to send me such a lovely pendant—I simply love it."

      She led the way into the drawing-room.

      "Mother'll be here in one minute, but we won't wait for tea. I'm dying to have a talk with you; but people are sure to turn up—they always do. Chumps said he'd look in if he could get off. I'm simply dying for you two to see each other; I think you'll like each other awfully. I've told Chumps all about you, and what friends we always were as small kiddies."

      "Do you call him—that?"

      "Chumps? Yes—everybody does. I have for ages —even before we were engaged. As a matter of fact," said Muriel, slightly lowering her voice, "it's really just as well that he has got a nickname, because his real name is Archie, and mother simply couldn't have called him that."

      "Why not? Is it a name she doesn't like?" asked Zella, rather bewildered, and reflecting that, though the limits of Muriel's vocabulary might have altered, they were still very sharply defined.

      "My dear, no! what a weird suggestion! Don't you remember, my poor little brother who died as a kiddie was called Archie?"

      "So he was," said Zella in tones which she instinctively tried to render awed.

      "It's really rather a weird coincidence, I suppose," thoughtfully observed Muriel, twisting her engagement ring round her finger.

      The entry of Mrs. Lloyd-Evans broke upon this disquieting consideration.

      She kissed Zella affectionately, and said:

      "Well, dear, this is nice! So you've come to see Muriel before Somebody carries her off to Egypt. How is poor papa?"

      Mrs. Lloyd-Evans had thus alluded to Louis ever since his wife's death.

      "He is very well, and sent his love. He is coming

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