BOOK SIXTH: MRS. BROOK
"Oh, he'll submit it to you—he'll submit it even to me," Mrs. Brook broke in. "He'll be charming, touching, confiding—above all he'll be awfully interesting about it. But he'll make up his mind in his own way, and his own way won't be to accommodate Mr. Longdon."
Mitchy continued to study their companion in the light of these remarks, then turned upon his hostess his sociable glare. "Splendid, isn't it, the old boy's infatuation with him?"
Mrs. Brook just hesitated. "From the point of view of the immense interest it—just now, for instance—makes for you and me? Oh yes, it's one of our best things yet. It places him a little with Lady Fanny—'He will, he won't; he won't, he will!' Only, to be perfect, it lacks, as I say, the element of real suspense."
Mitchy frankly wondered. "It does, you think? Not for me—not wholly." He turned again, quite pleadingly, to their friend. "I hope it doesn't for yourself totally either?"
Vanderbank, cultivating his detachment, made at first no more reply than if he had not heard, and the others meanwhile showed faces that testified perhaps less than their respective speeches had done to the absence of anxiety. The only token he immediately gave was to get up and approach Mitchy, before whom he stood a minute, laughing kindly enough, but not altogether gaily. As if then for a better proof of gaiety he presently seized him by the shoulders and, still without speaking, pushed him backward into the chair he himself had just quitted. Mrs. Brook's eyes, from the sofa, while this went on, attached themselves to her visitors. It took Vanderbank, as he moved about and his companions waited, a minute longer to produce what he had in mind. "What is splendid, as we call it, is this extraordinary freedom and good-humor of our intercourse and the fact that we do care—so independently of our personal interests, with so
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