A London Season Read Free

dare say nothing very dreadful may happen after all. On the other hand,” she added, after a moment ’ s sober reflection, “on the other hand, there is The Voice!”
    Evidently even the partisan Miss Mary could not counter this mysterious but significant utterance, for she was able only to nod, saying faintly, “Dear me, yes, there is The Voice!”
    And both ladies remained silent for a moment, shaking their heads. Then Miss Madden said, bracingly, “Well, my dear Mary, no one can say we have not done our duty! All that about Persephone ’ s regarding us as family , you know, was mere flummery — though very prettily said upon Sir Edmund ’ s part, I grant you! But I will confess to you, Mary, that I entertain a fondness for the child.”
    “I knew it!” cried Miss Mary, radiant.
    “And I well know that she is a favourite with you ,” said Miss Madden indulgently. “Yes, all things considered, I am confident that with the precepts of the Seminary behind her, and in the good hands of Sir Edmund and the Yoxfords, Persephone will soon become less wild!”

 
    2
    L ady Yoxford could not have been said to share Miss Madden ’ s confidence. When her brother, calling on her the day after his arrival in London from Berlin, first broached the subject of Persephone, she was a good deal put out. “It won ’ t answer, Edmund!” she said, as firmly as her spirit allowed — which was not so very firmly, for hers was a pliant, easy-going nature. “ Indeed it will not answer!”
    “But my dear Bella, there ’ s nothing else for it! I ’ ll make sure the child is as little of a charge on you as possible. Good God, my dear,” added Sir Edmund, a little impatiently, “surely I explained everything in my letter! Didn ’ t you read it?”
    “Yes, I dare say,” admitted Lady Yoxford, vaguely. “Only I may not have perfectly understood ... do you really mean her to reside here?”
    “Well, she can ’ t stay with me, can she?” pointed out her widower brother. “Uncle John ’ s old tenants wish to continue leasing the Grafton town house, and I ’ m more than happy for them to remain there. I don ’ t want to be saddled with its upkeep, as well as that barracks of a place in Westmorland. I ’ d prefer to let that too, or even try if the entail can ’ t be broken and sell it,” he added thoughtfully. “Well, that ’ s all for future consideration. Myself, I don ’ t wish to live anywhere but Waterleys when I ’ m in the country.”
    Isabella Yoxford could sympathize. Like her brother, she felt a strong affection for their childhood home of Waterlevs Hall, a pleasant Queen Anne mansion of modest size on t h e small but thriving Hertfordshire estate inherited by Sir Edmund from their late father. “And that will be very agreeable for us, since now we shall see more of you!” she said comfortably. “I can quite see that to reside in Westmorland would be most inconvenient, when you are for ever needed at the Foreign Office.”
    “Yes,” said Sir Edmund, returning to the matter under discussion, “but the thing is that when I ’ m in town, my old set of rooms will do for me quite as well as they ’ ve done these last few years, whenever I was home from the Continent. And I can hardly accommodate a young female in what is decidedly a bachelor establishment!”
    Lady Yoxford was forced to admit the truth of this. “Oh dear, if only she began, and then caught herself up. She had been about to say, “If only Catherine had been alive,” but she knew better than to risk opening old wounds by the mention of her brother ’ s wife to his face. In answer to his look of inquiry, therefore, she amended her sentence, and finished, “If only Jack had not been so foolishly reckless! And it ’ s my belief,” she added, “that Sophia, far from exercising that restraining influence upon him that Uncle John had hoped for, positively encouraged him! Indeed, I would almost say it served her right to be with him in the