When a few minutes before three Mr. Cheesewright went his way—to have a net at Lord's Cricket Ground—the famous Princess Bedalia felt a pang of regret. He had played a pretty good innings already, even if he didn't seem to know it. And the honest shake of her hand did its best to tell him so.
IV
As soon as Mr. Cheesewright had gone, Mary prepared to go too. But before she could retire Milly and her mother were at her. Both had a pretty shrewd suspicion that she had been making a sorry mess of things at Bridport House. These ladies, however, were so cunning, that they did not show their hands at once. To begin with, they exchanged a glance full of meaning, and then as Mary got up and made for the door, Mrs Wren commanded her to sit down again and tell them what she thought of Charley. That was guile. She didn't in the least want to know what anyone thought of Charley; besides, it would have been quite possible for Mary to deliver her verdict even as she stood with the knob of the door in her hand.
"I like him—immensely!" she said, returning to the sofa in deference to Mrs. Wren.
Mother and daughter looked at her searchingly, with eyes that questioned.
"I like him—immensely!" she repeated.
"He's not the kind of man," said Mrs. Wren with an air of vexation, "I should have written home about when I was a girl."
"What's wrong with him?" said Milly, bridling. "Why do you always crab him, mother?"
