Confessions of a Well-Meaning Woman
degree, but on this occasion he promised without demur. Perhaps he hoped that in playing cavalier to Phyllida he would turn his own thoughts from that unhappy episode at Morecambe; I prefer to think that, having now suffered himself, he was more sensitive to others’ suffering. . . I did not enquire how they spent their time; they were cousins and could go about together without being spied on and whispered about; I made over the car to them, kept Will supplied with little sums to cover their amusements and asked no questions.
From start to finish, he behaved splendidly. I am not being unkind if I say that Phyllida was sometimes a little difficile. . . You have noticed, I expect, that, when people of a certain class become possessed of a motor-car for the first time, their ambition is to see how fast they can drive it. Phyllida, I am afraid—and I was sorry to see it, though I could hardly hope for any other fruit of poor Ruth’s upbringing ; you may copy the mannerisms of others, but you can only give forth the breeding that is in you. . . I have lost the thread. . . Ah, yes! Phyllida, I am afraid, seeing a loyal and attentive cavalier always by her side. . . She tried my Will very hard; I sometimes felt that she was deliberately experimenting to see how much he would bear. Among places of amusement it was always her
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