Sixteen
I“I ’m home, Arthur!” declared Mrs. Bantry, announcing the fact like a Royal Proclamation as she flung open thestudy door.
Colonel Bantry immediately jumped up, kissed his wife, and declared heartily¹: “Well, well, that’s splendid!”
The words were unimpeachable², the manner very well done, but an affectionate wife of as many years’ standing³ asMrs. Bantry was not deceived. She said immediately:
“Is anything the matter?”
“No, of course not, Dolly. What should be the matter?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” said Mrs. Bantry vaguely⁴. “Things are so queer, aren’t they?”
She threw off her coat as she spoke⁵ and Colonel Bantry picked it up as carefully and laid it across the back of thesofa.
All exactly as usual—yet not as usual. Her husband, Mrs. Bantry thought, seemed to have shrunk. He lookedthinner, stooped more; they were pouches⁶ under his eyes and those eyes were not ready to meet hers.
He went on to say, still with that affectation of cheerfulness:
“Well, how did you enjoy your time at Danemouth?”
“Oh! it was great fun. You ought to have come, Arthur.”
“Couldn’t get away, my dear. Lot of things to attend to here.”
“Still, I think the change would have done you good. And you like the Jeffersons?”
“Yes, yes, poor fellow. Nice chap. All very sad.”
“What have you been doing with yourself since I’ve been away?”
“Oh, nothing much. Been over the farms, you know. Agreed that Anderson shall have a new roof—can’t patch itup any longer.”
“How did the Radfordshire Council meeting go?”
“I—well—as a matter of fact I didn’t go.”
“Didn’t go? But you were taking the chair?”
“Well, as a matter of fact, Dolly—seems there was some mistake about that. Asked me if I’d mind if Thompsontook it instead.”
“I see,” said Mrs. Bantry.

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