But one can't--one really can't!"
Jealousy sprang up sharply in Faversham, though a wider experience of the
sex might have suggested to him that women do not generally shower public
praise on the men they love. Lydia, however, quickly left the subject,
and returned to his own affairs. Nothing, he confessed, could have been
friendlier or sincerer than her interest in them. They plunged into the
subject of the estate; and Faversham stood amazed at her knowledge of the
dales-folk, their lives and their grievances. At the end, he drew a long
breath.
"By George!--can I do it?"
"Oh, yes, yes, _yes_!" said Lydia eagerly, driving her needle into the
sofa cushion. "You'll reform him!"
Faversham laughed.
"He's a tough customer. He has already warned me I am not to manage his
estates like a Socialist."
"No--but like a human being!" cried Lydia, indignantly--"that's all we
want. Come and talk to Lord Tatham!"
"Parley with my employer's opponent!"
"Under a flag of truce," laughed Lydia, "and this shall be the neutral
ground. You shall meet here--and mamma and I will hold the lists."
"You think--under those circumstances--we should get through much
business?" His dark eyes, full of gaiety, searched hers. She flushed a
little.
"Ah, well, you should have the chance anyway."
Faversham rose unwillingly to go. Lydia bent forward, listening.
"At last--here comes my mother."
For outside in the little hall there was suddenly much chatter and
swishing of skirts.
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