"Good old Bick! I must have looked an awful little ass. But--well,
_will_ you chuck it all and come home?"
"Oho!"
"Yes, 'oho' as much as you like, but it is all rot your living here, and
_she_ hates it, and it's unpleasant all round. Besides the country is
really lovely now, and I miss you."
"Do you, Tommy dear?"
"I do."
"Did mother send you?"
"No. She said you wouldn't come if she did, but that you might if I--if
I----"
"If you exerted your authority as Head of the Family!"
"Well, yes." Tommy, now completely shamefaced, took more jam and handed
back his cup.
"She _is_ funny," mused Brigit. "To have so little sense of humour."
"That's what I told her. But Aunt Emily says people are talking about
your living alone, etc. And--besides, I think she is really rather fond
of you, Bick."
"Oh, no, she isn't. However, M. l'Ambassadeur, you have fulfilled your
mission, so be content."
Tommy paused in his task of biting into a piece of cake and looked up at
her. "Then--you will?"
"No, dear; I most certainly won't. But don't you bother about that. I
like this very well, and after all it isn't for long."
"Oh. You mean you are going to marry Theo.
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