Susy kissed her sister when they were alone, tenderly but absently.
"You're a rare case, Lydia--unique, I think. The Greeks would call you
something--I forget! I should really like to understand the psychology of
it. It might be useful."
Lydia bantered her a little--rather sorely. But the emotions of her
family would always be so much "copy" to Susy; and the fact did not in
the least prevent her being a warm-hearted, and, in her own way,
admirable little person.
Finally, Lydia turned the tables on her, by throwing an arm round her
neck, and inquiring whether Mr. Weston had not paid her a very long
call the day before. Susy quietly admitted it, and added: "But I told
him not to call again. I'm afraid--I'm bored with him. There are no
mysteries in his character--no lights and shades at all. He is too
virtuous--monotonously so. It would be of no technical advantage to me
whatever, to fall in love with him."
That evening came a note from Lady Tatham:
"MY DEAR LYDIA:
"We expect you to-morrow at 11:30. Mr. Faversham has asked that we--and
you--Cyril Boden, Doctor Undershaw, old Dixon, and Felicia (her poor
mother is _very_ ill, and we hear news to-day of the sudden death of the
old grandfather)--should meet him at that hour in Harry's library. And
afterward, you will stay to lunch? My dear, you have in this house two
warm friends who love you and long to see you. Each hour that passes
grows more thrilling than the last....
"I have been spending some time with old Mrs.
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