But Mrs. Wilkins was not listening; for just then, absurd as it
seemed, a picture had flashed across her brain, and there were two
figures in it sitting together under a great trailing wisteria that
stretched across the branches of a tree she didn't know, and it was
herself and Mrs. Arbuthnot--she saw them--she saw them. And behind
them, bright in sunshine, were old grey walls--the mediaeval castle
--she saw it--they were there . . .
She therefore stared at Mrs. Arbuthnot and did not hear a word
she said. And Mrs. Arbuthnot stared too at Mrs. Wilkins, arrested by
the expression on her face, which was swept by the excitement of what
she saw, and was as luminous and tremulous under it as water in
sunlight when it is ruffled by a gust of wind. At this moment, if she
had been at a party, Mrs. Wilkins would have been looked at with
interest.
They stared at each other; Mrs. Arbuthnot surprised, inquiringly,
Mrs. Wilkins with the eyes of some one who has had a revelation. Of
course. That was how it could be done. She herself, she by herself,
couldn't afford it, and wouldn't be able, even if she could afford it,
to go there all alone; but she and Mrs. Arbuthnot together . . .
She leaned across the table, "Why don't we try and get it?" she
whispered.
Mrs.
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