You two ought to be ideally happy. You're meant for
one another--I mean you and Bruce.'
'Do you think so?'
'Absolutely. But this--what shall I say?--this fascination is coming
between you, and, though you don't realise it, it's saddening Bruce's
life; it will sadden yours too. At first, no doubt, at the stage you're
in, dear, it seems all romance and excitement. But later on--Now, Edith,
promise me you won't be angry with me for what I've said? It's a
terrible freedom that I've taken, I know. Really a liberty. But if I
were your'--she glanced at the mirror--'elder sister, I couldn't be
fonder of you. Don't think I'm a horrid, interfering old thing,
will you?'
'Indeed I don't; you're a dear.'
'Well, we won't speak of it any more till after Tuesday,' said Madame
Frabelle, 'and take my advice: throw yourself into other things.'
She glanced round the room.
'It's a splendid idea to divert your thoughts; why don't you refurnish
your boudoir?'
Edith had often noticed the strange lack in Eglantine of any sense of
decoration. She dressed charmingly, but with regard to surroundings she
was entirely devoid of taste. She had the curious provincialism so often
seen in cosmopolitans who have lived most of their lives in hotels,
without apparently noticing or caring about their surroundings.
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