place. These remote districts are still feudal, and centuries behind us. You can have no idea of the
power
of the—of my late employer. What he says
goes
. And he hasn’t got to speak. A nod is enough.”
“Degrading,” muttered Iris, who resented authority.
“It is,” agreed Miss Froy. “But it’s in the atmosphere, and after a time one absorbs it and one grows spineless. And that’s not English. I feel so reinforced, now I’ve met you. We must stick together.”
Iris made no promise. Her fright had not changed her fundamentally, only weakened her nerve. She had the modern prejudice in favour of youth, and had no intention of being tied to a middle-aged spinster for the rest of the journey.
“Are you going back again?” she asked distantly.
“Yes, but not to the castle. It’s rather awkward, but I wanted another twelve months to perfect my accent, so I engaged to teach the children of the—Well, we’ll call him the leader of the opposition.”
She lowered her voice to a whisper.
“The truth is, there is a small but growing Communist element, which is very opposed to my late employer. In fact, they’ve accused him of corruption and all sorts of horrors. I don’t ask myself if it’s true, for it’s not my business. I only know he’s a marvellous man, with wonderful charm and personality. Blood tells. Shall I tell you something rather indiscreet?”
Iris nodded wearily. She was beginning to feel dazed by the heat and incessant clatter. Her tea had not refreshed her, for most of it had splashed into her saucer. The engine plunged and jolted over the metals with drunken jerks, belching out wreaths of acrid smoke which streamed past the windows.
Miss Froy continued her serial, while Iris listened in bored resignation.
“I was terribly anxious to say ‘Good-bye’ to the—to my employer, so that I could assure him that my going over to the enemy—so to speak—was not treachery. His valet and secretary both told me that he was away at his hunting-lodge. But somehow I felt that they were putting me off. Anyway, I lay awake until early morning, before it was light, when I heard water splashing in the bathroom. Only one, my dear, for the castle arrangements were primitive, although my bedroom was like a stage royal apartment, all gilding and peacock-blue velvet, with a huge circular mirror let into the ceiling. Well, I crept out, like a mouse, and met him in the corridor. There we were, plain man and woman—I in my dressing-gown, and he in his bath-robe, and with his hair all wet and rough. But he was charming. He actually shook my hand and thanked me for my services.”
Miss Froy stopped to butter the last scrap of roll. As she was wiping her sticky fingers, she heaved a sigh of happiness.
“I cannot tell you,” she said, “what a relief it was to leave under such pleasant circumstances. I always try to be on good terms with every one. Of course, I’m insignificant, but I can say truthfully that I have not got an enemy in the world.”
CHAPTER NINE
COMPATRIOTS
“And now,” said Miss Froy, “I supposed we had better go back to our carriage, and make room for others.”
The waiter, who was both a judge of character and an opportunist, presented the bill to Iris. Unable to decipher the sprawling numerals, she laid down a note and rose from her seat.
“Aren’t you waiting for your change?” asked Miss Froy.
When Iris explained that she was leaving it for a tip, she gasped.
“But it’s absurd. Besides, they’ve already charged their percentage on the bill. As I’m more familiar with the currency, hadn’t I better settle up for everything? I’ll keep an account, and we can get straight at our journey’s end.”
The incident was fresh evidence of the smooth working of the protective-square system. Although Iris was travelling alone, a competent courier had presented herself, to rid her of all responsibilities and worries.
“She’s decent, although she’s a crashing bore,”
power
of the—of my late employer. What he says
goes
. And he hasn’t got to speak. A nod is enough.”
“Degrading,” muttered Iris, who resented authority.
“It is,” agreed Miss Froy. “But it’s in the atmosphere, and after a time one absorbs it and one grows spineless. And that’s not English. I feel so reinforced, now I’ve met you. We must stick together.”
Iris made no promise. Her fright had not changed her fundamentally, only weakened her nerve. She had the modern prejudice in favour of youth, and had no intention of being tied to a middle-aged spinster for the rest of the journey.
“Are you going back again?” she asked distantly.
“Yes, but not to the castle. It’s rather awkward, but I wanted another twelve months to perfect my accent, so I engaged to teach the children of the—Well, we’ll call him the leader of the opposition.”
She lowered her voice to a whisper.
“The truth is, there is a small but growing Communist element, which is very opposed to my late employer. In fact, they’ve accused him of corruption and all sorts of horrors. I don’t ask myself if it’s true, for it’s not my business. I only know he’s a marvellous man, with wonderful charm and personality. Blood tells. Shall I tell you something rather indiscreet?”
Iris nodded wearily. She was beginning to feel dazed by the heat and incessant clatter. Her tea had not refreshed her, for most of it had splashed into her saucer. The engine plunged and jolted over the metals with drunken jerks, belching out wreaths of acrid smoke which streamed past the windows.
Miss Froy continued her serial, while Iris listened in bored resignation.
“I was terribly anxious to say ‘Good-bye’ to the—to my employer, so that I could assure him that my going over to the enemy—so to speak—was not treachery. His valet and secretary both told me that he was away at his hunting-lodge. But somehow I felt that they were putting me off. Anyway, I lay awake until early morning, before it was light, when I heard water splashing in the bathroom. Only one, my dear, for the castle arrangements were primitive, although my bedroom was like a stage royal apartment, all gilding and peacock-blue velvet, with a huge circular mirror let into the ceiling. Well, I crept out, like a mouse, and met him in the corridor. There we were, plain man and woman—I in my dressing-gown, and he in his bath-robe, and with his hair all wet and rough. But he was charming. He actually shook my hand and thanked me for my services.”
Miss Froy stopped to butter the last scrap of roll. As she was wiping her sticky fingers, she heaved a sigh of happiness.
“I cannot tell you,” she said, “what a relief it was to leave under such pleasant circumstances. I always try to be on good terms with every one. Of course, I’m insignificant, but I can say truthfully that I have not got an enemy in the world.”
CHAPTER NINE
COMPATRIOTS
“And now,” said Miss Froy, “I supposed we had better go back to our carriage, and make room for others.”
The waiter, who was both a judge of character and an opportunist, presented the bill to Iris. Unable to decipher the sprawling numerals, she laid down a note and rose from her seat.
“Aren’t you waiting for your change?” asked Miss Froy.
When Iris explained that she was leaving it for a tip, she gasped.
“But it’s absurd. Besides, they’ve already charged their percentage on the bill. As I’m more familiar with the currency, hadn’t I better settle up for everything? I’ll keep an account, and we can get straight at our journey’s end.”
The incident was fresh evidence of the smooth working of the protective-square system. Although Iris was travelling alone, a competent courier had presented herself, to rid her of all responsibilities and worries.
“She’s decent, although she’s a crashing bore,”
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