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said anything to her that would lead her to expect some permanent sort of relationship.
They settled back into the old wav again And really it was not so bad, each felt. Both were grateful that
a crisis had been averted, an ending avoided.
He came, not during the evening two days after his first visit, but early in the afternoon, long before she
was expecting him.
"The air is crisp, Priss," he said when she came running lightly downstairs, "and the sky blue, and all the
leaves underfoot. I have come to take you walking."
"Oh, have you, Gerald?" she asked, her eyes shining at him. "Maud has a cold and I have not been able
to go out since yesterday. I have been so cross. I almost dared all by venturing out alone."
"Don't even try it," he said. "You might feel the flat of my hand if I caught you at it, Priss."
But his tone was light, and she smiled at him. Not her practiced smile, but almost a grin. And he noticed
that she was wearing her earrings, though they were not quite appropriate wear for daytime with a wool
dress. Even he knew that.
They walked throughHyde Park, which was almost deserted at that hour of the day and that time of the
year, crunching the leaves underfoot, swishing their feet through them.
"Just like a couple of schoolchildren," she said.
He told her about his mother. All of it. He had not planned to do so. Perhaps that was why the words
came easily and fluently.
"Poor lady," she said when he had finished. "Some people know so little happiness in their lives, Gerald.
I do not wonder that your aunt said what she did about heaven. One can only hope that there is a
heaven, where the injustices of this life are set right."
"Yes," he said. "I wish I could have said just one word to her, Priss, I wish I could have said good-bye."
"Poor Gerald," she said. "But she was your mother. She knew your father and you. I think she would
have realized the truth. Perhaps nothing as fiendish as your being told that she was dead. But she would
have known that you did not stop loving her. Oh, she would have known that, Gerald."
He patted her hand. "Perhaps," he said. "You have a kind heart, Priss. Shall I take you somewhere for
cakes?"
"There are cakes at home," she said, "and jam tarts."
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"Let the jam tarts decide it, then," he said. "Home it will be."
He stayed with her until the following morning, and they were comfortable together the whole time with a
quiet sort of friendship. He slept with his arm about her, her head on his shoulder, after coupling with her
once. And he had slept the night through, he realized with some surprise when he woke up to daylight.
He kissed her hand when he was leaving and directed her to be ready for him in two days' time. He
would take her to one of the galleries, he told her, and she should teach him how to be a discerning art
critic.
"Oh, Gerald," she said, laughing, "there is no such person. There is only what you like and what you do
not like."
"But I never seem to like the right things, Priss," he said with a smile. "I like what is pretty rather than
what is considered great art."
She liked his smile when he was teasing. She wished he would relax and do more of it.
But she was content. The end was not quite yet, and she was glad of it.
And he planned how to please her. Now that he knew she was literate and intelligent, he planned to take
her about to the places she would enjoy. No matter that he had avoided them during his years inLondon
as he always avoided anything that would bring him only tedium. He would take Priss and enjoy seeing
her happy.
"I shall see you the day after tomorrow, then," he said. He would not allow himself to see her more than
once in every two or three days, he had decided during the night walk aboutLondon.
"I shall be ready," she said.
Chapter 12
Sir Gerald's aunts invited him to spend Christmas with them, and he decided to go, drawn by the lure of
family, which he had not known for years. It was not an easy decision to make. He wanted to stay in
Londonwith Priscilla.
But it was the best decision, he decided after it was made. If he stayed in town he would be besieged by
the usual invitations from well-meaning acquaintances who pitied his lone state. And how could he reject
such invitations, using as an excuse that he preferred to spend the holiday with his mistress?
Besides, he thought, Christmas was a time for love and intimacy. Perhaps if he stayed he would disturb
the fragile peace and contentment that had existed between him and Priss since his return at the end of
October. Perhaps love would flower between them again and leave them empty once more when the
holiday was over. And perhaps this time they would be unable to pick up the pieces again. He did not
want to lose her, he had discovered over the past two months.
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"What will you do with yourself, Priss?" he asked her. "Will you be lonely?"
"No, of course I won't," she said to him, smiling. "Miss Blythe has invited me to spend the day with her.
The girls have a holiday, you know, and will be feasting and celebrating. Perhaps I will call for an hour
but not for the whole day. I shall stay here and celebrate with Mrs. Wilson and Mr. Prendergast and
Maud. They have nowhere else to go. Miriam has asked me if she may have the afternoon free to visit
her family. I have told her she must go on Christmas Eve and not return until the day after Christmas. The
door will be barred against her, I have said, if she tries to return earlier."
"I suppose I will be gone for about two weeks," he said. "I wish I weren't going, Priss. I hate the thought
of having two spinster aunts fuss over me for all that time."
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