The Green
itself sloped upwards until it became a flat-topped hill, once a
British or a Roman camp, and thence the river could be seen between
its rocky cliffs and the woods Rose had lately skirted clothing the
farther side in every shade of green.
She lingered for a moment to watch the children playing, the
nursemaids slowly pushing, the elms opening their crumpled leaves like
babies' hands. She had a momentary desire to stay, to wander round the
hill and look with untired eyes at the familiar scene; but she passed
on under the tyranny of tea. The Malletts were always in time for
meals and the meals were exquisite, like the polish on the old brass
door-knocker, like the furniture in the white panelled hall, like the
beautiful old mahogany in the drawing-room, the old china, the glass
bowls full of flowers.
Rose found Caroline and Sophia there on either side of a small wood
fire, while, facing the fire and spread in a chair not too low and not
too narrow for her bulk, sat Mrs. Batty, flushed, costumed for spring,
her hat a flower garden.
'Just in time,' Caroline said. 'Touch the bell, please, Sophia.'
'Susan saw me,' Rose said, and the elderly parlourmaid entered at that
moment with the teapot.
'Rose insists on having a latchkey,' Sophia explained. 'What would the
General have said?'
'What, indeed!' Caroline echoed. 'Young rakes are always old prudes.
Yes, the General was a rake, Sophia; you needn't look so modest.
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