Just to sit here and see the younger generation go past.
Don't regret your youth, Miss Cardinal. You'll want it back again
one day. I said to Martin only yesterday . . ."
Neither Aunt Anne nor Amy Warlock had anything to say, so that quite
suddenly on the entrance of tea, conversation dropped. They all sat
there and looked at one another. There was a large silver tray with
silver tea-things upon it and a fat swelling china dish that held
hot buttered toast. There was a standing wicker pyramid containing
bread and butter, plates of little yellow and red cakes, shortbread
and very heavy plum cake black with currants.
Mrs. Warlock had ceased all conversation, her eyes were fixed upon
the preparations for tea. The door opened and John Warlock and his
son came in.
Maggie's eyes lighted when she saw Martin Warlock. She behaved as
she might have done had she been in her own room at St. Dreots. She
sprang up from her chair and stood there, smiling, waiting for him.
First his father shook hands with her, then Martin came and stood
beside her, laughing.
His face was flushed and he seemed excited about something, but she
felt nothing save her pleasure at meeting him, and it was only when
he had moved on to her aunt that she was conscious once more of Amy
Warlock's eyes, and wondered whether she had behaved badly in
jumping up to meet him.
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