It made her
so happy and so secure that she could positively patronise mamma. She
did so in the Captain's very language. "She's good, she's good!" she
proclaimed.
"Oh Lord!"--Sir Claude, at this, let himself go. He appeared to have
emitted some sound of derision that was smothered, to Maisie's ears, by
her being again embraced by his wife. Ida released her and held her off
a little, looking at her with a very queer face. Then the child became
aware that their companion had left them and that from the face in
question a confirmatory remark had proceeded.
"I AM good, love," said her ladyship.
XXI
A good deal of the rest of Ida's visit was devoted to explaining, as it
were, so extraordinary a statement. This explanation was more copious
than any she had yet indulged in, and as the summer twilight gathered
and she kept her child in the garden she was conciliatory to a degree
that let her need to arrange things a little perceptibly peep out. It
was not merely that she explained; she almost conversed; all that was
wanting was that she should have positively chattered a little less. It
was really the occasion of Maisie's life on which her mother was to have
most to say to her. That alone was an implication of generosity and
virtue, and no great stretch was required to make our young lady feel
that she should best meet her and soonest have it over by simply seeming
struck with the propriety of her contention. They sat together while
the parent's gloved hand sometimes rested sociably on the child's and
sometimes gave a corrective pull to a ribbon too meagre or a tress too
thick; and Maisie was conscious of the effort to keep out of her eyes
the wonder with which they were occasionally moved to blink.
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