"The expense will be my affair.
Yes, darling.
A little flutter on the Stock Exchange.
With thoroughly satisfactory results.
I heard this morning."
"This morning?" said Mrs Allerton sharply. "You only had one letter and that -" She stopped and bit her lip.
Tim looked momentarily undecided whether to be amused or annoyed.
Amusement gained the day.
"And that was from Joanna," he finished coolly. "Quite right, Mother.
What a Queen of detectives you'd make!
The famous Hercule Poirot would have to look to his laurels if you were about."
Mrs Allerton looked rather cross.
"I just happened to see the handwriting -"
"And knew it wasn't that of a stockbroker?
Quite right.
As a matter of fact it was yesterday I heard from them.
Poor Joanna's handwriting is rather noticeable - sprawls about all over the envelope like an inebriated spider."
"What does Joanna say?
Any news?"
Mrs Allerton strove to make her voice sound casual and ordinary.
The friendship between her son and his second cousin, Joanna Southwood, always irritated her.
Not, as she put it to herself, that there was "anything in it." She was quite sure there wasn't.
Tim had never manifested a sentimental interest in Joanna, nor she in him.
Their mutual attraction seemed to be founded on gossip and the possession of a large number of friends and acquaintances in common.
They both liked people and discussing people.
Joanna had an amusing if caustic tongue.
It was not because Mrs Allerton feared that Tim might fall in love with Joanna that she found herself always becoming a little stiff in manner if Joanna were present or when letters from her arrived.
It was some other feeling hard to define - perhaps an unacknowledged jealousy in the unfeigned pleasure Tim always seemed to take in Joanna's society.
He and his mother were such perfect companions that the sight of him absorbed and interested in another woman always startled Mrs Allerton slightly.
She fancied, too, that her own presence on these occasions set some barrier between the two members of the younger generation.
Often she had come upon them eagerly absorbed in some conversation and, at sight of her, their talk had wavered, had seemed to include her rather too purposefully and as in duty bound.
Quite definitely, Mrs Allerton did not like Joanna Southwood.
She thought her insincere, affected and essentially superficial. She found it very hard to prevent herself saying so in unmeasured tones.
In answer to her question, Tim pulled the letter out of his pocket and glanced through it.
It was quite a long letter, his mother noted.
"Nothing much," he said. "The Devenishes are getting a divorce.
Old Monty's been had up for being drunk in charge of a car.
Windlesham's gone to Canada.
Seems he was pretty badly hit when Linnet Ridgeway turned him down.
She's definitely going to marry this land agent person."
"How extraordinary!
Is he very dreadful?"
"No, no, not at all.
He's one of the Devonshire Doyles.
No money, of course - and he was actually engaged to one of Linnet's best friends.
Pretty thick, that."
"I don't think it's at all nice," said Mrs Allerton, flushing.
Tim flashed her a quick affectionate glance.
"I know, darling.
You don't approve of snapping other people's husbands and all that sort of thing."