which Robert is lessfitted to bear than that. However, we all have our crosses, even thoseof us who have our coronets also."
Lady Ashbridge's hospitable instincts asserted themselves. "But yourhusband must come in," she said. "I will go and tell him. And Robert hasgone to play golf."
Barbara laughed.
"I am quite sure Tony won't come in," she said. "I promised him heshouldn't, and he only drove down with me on the express stipulationthat no risks were to be run about his seeing Robert. We must take nochances, so let him have his tea quietly in the motor and then driveaway again. And who else is there? Anybody? Michael?"
"Michael comes this evening."
"I am glad; I am particularly fond of Michael. Also he will play to usafter dinner, and though I don't know one note from another, it willrelieve me of sitting in a stately circle watching Robert cheat atpatience. I always find the evenings here rather trying; they remind meof being in church. I feel as if I were part of a corporate body, whichleads to misplaced decorum. Ah! there is the sound of Tony's retreatingmotor; his strategic movement has come off. And now give me some news,if you can get in a word. Dear me, there is Robert coming back acrossthe lawn. What a mercy that Tony did not leave the motor. Robert alwayswalks as if he was dancing a minuet. Look, there is Og imitating him! Oris he stalking him, thinking he is an enemy. Og, come here!"
She whistled shrilly on her fingers, and rose to greet her brother, whomOg was still menacing, as he advanced towards her with staccato steps.Barbara, however, got between Og and his prey, and threw her parasol athim.
"My dear, how are you?" she said. "And how did the golf go? And did youbeat the professional?"
He suspected flippancy here, and became markedly dignified.
"An excellent match," he said, "and Macpherson tells me I played a verysound game. I am delighted to see you, Barbara. And did Michael comedown with you?"
"No. I drove from town. It saves time, but not expense, with your awfultrains."
"And you are well, and Mr. Jerome?" he asked. He always called hisbrother-in-law Mr. Jerome, to indicate the gulf between them. Barbaragave a little spurt of laughter.
"Yes, his excellency is quite well," she said. "You must call himexcellency now, my dear."
"Indeed! That is a great step."
"Considering that Tony began as an office-boy. How richly rewarding youare, my dear. And shan't I make an odd ambassadress! I haven't been to aCourt since the dark ages, when I went to those beloved States. We willpractise after dinner, dear, and you and Marion shall be the King andQueen, and I will try to walk backwards without tumbling on my head. Youwill like being the King, Robert. And then we will be ourselves again,all except Og, who shall be Tony and shall go out of the room beforeyou."
He gave his treble little giggle, for on the whole it answered betternot to be dignified with Barbara, whenever he could remember not tobe; and Lady Ashbridge, still nursing Petsy, threw a bombshell of theobvious to explode the conversation.
"Og has two mutton-chops for his dinner," she said, "and he is growingstill. Fancy!"
Lord Ashbridge took a refreshing glance at the broad stretch of countrythat all belonged to him.
"I am rather glad to have this opportunity of talking to you, my dearBarbara," he said, "before Michael comes."
"His train gets in half an hour before dinner" said Lady Ashbridge. "Hehas to change at Stoneborough."
"Quite so. I heard from Michael this morning, saying that he hasresigned his commission in the Guards, and is going to take up musicseriously."
Barbara gave a delighted exclamation.
"But how perfectly splendid!" she said. "Fancy a Comber doing anythingoriginal! Michael and I are the only Combers who ever have, sinceCombers 'arose from out the azure main' in the year one. I married anAmerican; that's something, though it's not up to Michael!"
"That is not quite my view of it," said he. "As for its being original,it would be original enough if Marion eloped with a Patagonian."
Lady Ashbridge let fall her embroidery at this monstrous suggestion.
"You are talking very wildly, Robert," she said, in a pained voice.
"My dear, get on with your sacred carpet," said he. "I am talking toBarbara. I have already ascertained your--your lack of views on thesubject. I was saying, Barbara, that mere originality is not a merit."
"No, you never said that," remarked Lady Ashbridge.
"I should have if you had allowed me to. And as for your saying that hehas done it, Barbara, that is very wide of the mark, and I intend shallcontinue to be so."
"Dear great Bashaw, that is just what you said to me when I told youI was going to marry his Excellency. But I did. And I think it is aglorious move on Michael's part. It requires brain to find out what youlike, and character to go and do it. Combers haven't got brains asa rule, you see. If they ever had any, they have degenerated intoconservative instincts."
He again refreshed himself with the landscape. The roofs of Ashbridgewere visible in the clear sunset. . . . Ashbridge paid its rents withremarkable regularity.
"That may or may not be so," he said, forgetting for a moment the dangerof being dignified. "But Combers have position."
Barbara controlled herself admirably. A slight tremor shook her, whichhe did not notice.
"Yes, dear," she said. "I allow that Combers have had for manygenerations a sort of acquisitive cunning, for all we possess hascome to us by exceedingly prudent marriages. They have also--I am anexception here--the gift of not saying very much, which certainly has animpressive effect, even when it arises from not having very much to say.They are sticky; they attract wealth, and they have the force called visinertiae, which means that they invest their money prudently. You shouldhear Tony--well, perhaps you had better not hear Tony. But now hereis Michael showing that he has got tastes. Can you wonder that I'mdelighted? And not only has he got tastes, but he has the strength ofcharacter to back them. Michael, in the Guards too! It was a perfectfarce, and he's had the sense to see it. He hated his duties, and hehated his diversions. Now Francis--"
"I am afraid Michael has always been a little jealous of Francis,"remarked his father.
This roused Barbara; she spoke quite seriously:
"If you really think that, my dear," she said, "you have the distinctionof being the worst possible judge of character that the world has everknown. Michael might be jealous of anybody else, for the poor boy feelshis physical awkwardness most sensitively, but Francis is just the oneperson he really worships. He would do anything in the world for him."
The discussion with Barbara was being even more fruitless than that withhis wife, and Lord Ashbridge rose.
"All I can do, then, is to ask you not to back Michael up," he said.
"My dear, he won't need backing up. He's a match for you by himself. Butif Michael, after thoroughly worsting you, asks me my opinion, I shallcertainly give it him. But he won't ask my opinion first. He will strewyour limbs, Robert, over this delightful terrace."
"Michael's train is late," said Lady Ashbridge, hearing the stable clockstrike. "He should have been here before this."
Barbara had still a word to say, and disregarded this quencher.
"But don't think, Robert," she said, "that because Michael resists yourwishes and authority, he will be enjoying himself. He will hate doingit, but that will not stop him."
Lord Ashbridge was not a bully; he had merely a profound sense of hisown importance.
"We will see about resistance," he said.
Barbara was not so successful on this occasion, and exploded loudly:
"You will, dear, indeed," she said.
Michael meantime had been travelling down from London without perturbinghimself over the scene with his father which he knew lay before him.This was quite characteristic of him; he had a singular command over hisimagination when he had made up his mind to anything, and never indulgedin the gratuitous pain of anticipation. Today he had an additionalbulwark against such self-inflicted worries, for he had
spent his lasttwo hours in town at the vocal recital of a singer who a month beforehad stirred the critics into rhapsody over her gift of lyric song.Up till now he had had no opportunity of hearing her; and, with thepanegyrics that had been showered on her in his mind, he had gone withthe expectation of disappointment. But now, an hour afterwards, thewheels of the train sang her songs, and in the inward ear he couldrecapture, with the vividness of an hallucination, the timbre ofthat wonderful voice and also the sweet harmonies of the pianist whoaccompanied her.
The hall had been packed from end to end, and he had barely got to hisseat, the only one vacant in the whole room,