You belong to the
country gentry. In America I used to read about the
country gentry in _London Society_--all the contributors
and all the subscribers to _London Society_ used to be
country gentry, I believe, from what I remember. They
were always riding to hounds, and having big Christmas
parties, and telling ghost stories about the family,
diamonds."
"All very proper," Kendal protested against the irony of
her tone.
"Oh, if one would be quite _sure_ that it will not make
any difference," Elfrida went on, clasping her knee with
her shapely gloved hands. "I should like--I should like
to beg you to make me a promise that you will never give
up your work--your splendid work!" She hesitated, and
looked at him almost with supplication. "But then why
should you make such a promise to _me!_"
They were sitting opposite one another in the dusty
confusion of the room, and when she said this Kendal got
up and walked over to her, without knowing exactly why.
"If I made such a promise," he said, looking down at her,
"it would be more binding given to you than to anybody
else--more binding and more sacred."
If she had exacted it he would have promised then and
there, and he had some vague notion of sealing the vow
with his lips upon her hand, and of arranging--this was
more indefinite still--that she should always insist, in
her sweet personal way, upon its fulfilment.
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