Half an hour later they were talking as if they had known each other always. Miss Lee was staying at the Luxe, and they had a tête-à-tête tea in her own sitting-room, with her own cushions making bright, delightful spots of color, and a large photograph of Poppa in the middle of the mantelpiece, and a small snapshot of Peter on either side of it.
He had learned that Poppa was the head of the Lee-Mackintosh Corporation, and that he thought a heap of Peter. He thought Peter was a real fine boy, and he didn’t mind his being English-at least, not much. Car gathered that continuous pressure was being brought to bear upon Poppa to think even more highly of Peter. He also gathered that Poppa had perfectly effete ideas about daughters traveling alone, and that Corinna was therefore saddled with a chaperone in the shape of Cousin Abby Palliser. She seemed quite capable of managing her however. Cousin Abby, having a passion for historical monuments, could always be sent to see St. Paul ’s, or Westminster Abbey, or the Houses of Parliament if Corinna wanted to get rid of her. This afternoon she was doing Westminster Abbey, and as she was an extremely conscientious sightseer, it would certainly take her several hours.
“And now,” said Corinna-“now I’m going to ask you questions.”
“All right.”
“You don’t mind?”
“Not a bit.”
She was sitting behind the tea-table with her elbow on her knee and her little round chin in her hand.
“Sure?” she said.
Car wondered. He laughed and said,
“What are you going to ask?”
“Wait and see.” She waited herself for a moment, and then said, “Peter’s told me a lot, and I’ve guessed some of the things he didn’t tell me. If I’ve guessed wrong, you can put me wise. You know, Peter thinks the world of you, but he’s considerably worried, because he doesn’t think you’re getting a fair show. Now if my grandmother was a Carthew, I suppose that lets me in so I can talk about the Carthews without offending you. And if that’s so, well, the first thing I want to ask is why your Uncle John Carthew didn’t rally round when things went wrong.”
“He helped my mother,” said Car.
“But not you.”
“No-not me.”
“Why?”
“Well, I don’t know why he should.”
“Didn’t he offer to help you at all?”
“Yes-on conditions.”
“And you couldn’t take them?”
“No.”
She didn’t ask what they were-that was a relief; she just sat and looked at him with perfectly round innocent eyes under a fluff of dark hair. The little gray hat lay on the floor beside her chair. Her hair was darker than he had expected. Its brown was the soft velvet brown of a bulrush. It increased her resemblance to a kitten, for it had the light, soft look of fur. It was very thick, and yet very light.
After a bit she said, “The job Peter got was offered to you first.”
Car flushed up to the roots of his hair and objurgated Peter in his heart.
“Oh well, it was for either of us. It-it wouldn’t have suited me to leave England then.”
She nodded.
“You let Peter have it. How many jobs have you had since Peter went out?”
“I couldn’t say.”
“Have you got a job now?”
“Not just at the moment.”
A look came over her face like a shadow passing quickly.
“You think I’m very inquisitive. I’m not. I’ve got to ask you something more, and I’m scared you’ll be angry with me.”
She didn’t look in the least scared; she looked as friendly as the friendliest importunate creature that does not know what it is to get no for an answer.
“I’ve got to ask you a very impertinent thing. If you’ve had a lot of jobs, what’s the reason you haven’t kept any of them?”
Just for a moment Car was angry.
“My own incompetence, I suppose,” he said.
“Well!” said Corinna. Her sparkling look accused him of mock humility. She sat up, dimpling. “Do you want me to believe that?”
“I’m afraid it’s true.”
She went suddenly as grave as a judge.
“Carthew Fairfax-you’ve got to tell me the truth. Was it your opinion that you were being incompetent before you got fired from those jobs?”
After a moment he met her look squarely.
“No, I thought I was doing pretty well.”
“There hadn’t been any complaints?”
“No.”
“They just fired you all of a sudden?”
“Yes.”
“Every time?”
He thought for a moment. Beecher -he’d been getting along like a house on fire with old Beecher -and then, “I’m sorry, Mr. Fairfax, but we’re cutting down the staff.” Prothero-yes, that was sudden enough. Craddock-you couldn’t count Craddock, who was just pure beast. But Gray-Gray had been full of a decent embarrassment.
“Why did you ask me that?”
“I’m going to ask you something else,” said Corinna. “I’m going to ask you whether you’ve got an enemy. No, I’m not-I’m going to ask you who your enemy is. I don’t need to ask whether you’ve got one.” A little hot color stood in her cheeks. Her eyes met his squarely.
Car leaned back smiling.
“I’m afraid I’m my own enemy, Miss Lee.”
She clapped her hands together sharply.
“You don’t like me for a cousin!”
“Why-”
“Didn’t I call you Carthew right away? If it isn’t the worst slap in the face I’ve ever had, to be called Miss Lee as if I was my own chaperone and at least as old as Cousin Abby!”
Car laughed, as one laughs at a child.
“My mistake! Let’s begin all over again. I’m Car, and you’re Corinna.”
“And we’re talking business,” said Miss Lee reprovingly.
“Are we?”
“I am.” She put her head a little on one side, let her lashes fall just a shade, and asked,
“Who was that girl on the stairs?”
“Fay Everitt?”
“Fay Something-I didn’t get her whole name. Who is she?”
Car experienced an extreme embarrassment. What was Peter playing at? Had he told this child he was married? He seemed to have told her a good many intimate things, but he didn’t seem to have told her that; and it wasn’t like Peter-it wasn’t in the least like Peter. If Peter hadn’t said he was married to Fay, it was going to be uncommonly awkward for any one else to say it. He wondered if it was Fay who was insisting on this rotten secrecy. He looked very nearly as embarrassed as he felt when he said,
“Didn’t Peter mention her?”
“No. Is she a friend of Peter’s?”
“Yes-she was.”
“You mean they’ve quarreled?”
“Oh no.”
“Is she a friend of yours?”
Car wondered. He wasn’t sure, but he supposed that Fay would have claimed him as a friend.
He compromised with, “I’ve known her for some time,” and to his horror felt the color rise in his face.
“‘M-m-m-” said Corinna. “She didn’t act in a very genial way-did she?”
“Not very.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know,” said Car.
She waved Fay Everitt away.
“Do you know what I’m doing to-morrow?”
“Something pleasant, I hope.”
“I hope so too. I’m going to Linwood to see my grandmother’s nephew, John Carthew. Will it be pleasant?”
“If he likes you. He’s charming to people he likes.”
“And he doesn’t like you?”
“He likes people as long as they do everything he wants them to. If they want to do something else, there’s trouble.”
“And you wanted to do something else?”
“I like my own way too,” said Car.