was the only woman present. Men in shooting-clothes came in, nodded to each other, and just said good-morning to her, and then sat about on scattered islands, each seeming to avoid proximity to anybody else, and got through their meal before Aunt Cathie had finished the sole which she had taken. Then outside the noise of a motor crunching the gravel was heard, followed by a second and a third, and before she had finished she was quite alone again.
The house that had seemed so full the evening before was strangely silent and deserted, and after breakfast she went into the drawing-room, where they had sat last night after dinner. There the windows were open, the fires were unlit; visitors were clearly not expected to sit there. The shooters had started. Three motor-cars full of men had left the door, while it had not been suggested even that she, who had put on the old speckledy, with the amber beads and the silver pig, should walk with the shooters. Meantime, what was to be done? Where was she to go? Fancy having a party in the house and not coming down to breakfast! Probably Lucia knew what was the right thing, but it seemed very odd to Aunt Cathie. It was true that they had been up late the night before, but it was after ten now, and Lucia had not come downstairs. Nor, indeed, apparently, had any woman except herself.
It was a deliciously warm and sunny morning, and though Cathie would have liked to go back into the dining-room and read that amazing paragraph in the Morning Post again, she was not equal to so audacious a feat, for fear some other servant might come and ask her whether she would have tea or coffee, thinking she had only just come down, which would be too dreadful a suspicion, since it was half-past ten. But the fineness of the day was, so she thought to herself, a temptation, especially sine the drawing-room, with its empty grates and open windows, was far from being so; and, still a little desirous of a comfortable chair, a fire, and a paper, she told herself it would be far moi wholesome to have a good walk.
Her bedroom, where she had gone to fetch her hat, looked inviting, too. It was already garnished, and though the windows were open the fire was laid ready for a match. But Cathie did not know if it was the "thing" to sit in your bedroom, and it would be so dreadful not to do the "thing" in Lucia's house.
