"Have you got a few minutes to spare?" she asked.
Beatrice looked up, and put the papers aside.
"As many as you like."
Mrs. Cary's eyes sank beneath the direct gaze, and she began to play
with the rings that adorned her fat fingers.
"I'm afraid you'll be angry," she said. "If it wasn't for my duty as a
mother, I should let you go your own way--as it is, I must just risk
it."
"There is no risk," Beatrice returned gravely. "Where duty is
concerned, I am all consideration."
"It's about your intimacy with His Highness," Mrs. Cary went on. "I
can't help thinking it has gone too far."
"In what way?"
"You ride out with him every morning."
"You said nothing a month ago--when I went out for the first time."
"It was the first time. And I didn't know people would talk."
"Do they talk?"
"Yes. Mrs. Berry told me only this afternoon that she thought it most
_infra dig_. She told me as a friend--"
Beatrice laughed.
"Mrs. Berry as a friend is a new departure."
"Never mind. There was something in what she said. She told me it
spoiled your chances--with others."
"I dare say she told you that it is very immoral for me to ride out
with Captain Stafford?"
Mrs. Cary threw up her head.
"I don't take any notice of that sort of thing. That is only her
cattishness, because she wants Stafford for Maud."
"You don't mind about Captain Stafford, then?"
"Goodness, no! Why should I? A man wants to know a girl before--well,
before he asks her.
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