On the morning of James' birthday, August the 5th, they felt
extraordinary animation, and little notes passed between them by the
hand of Smither while they were having breakfast in their beds. Smither
must go round and take their love and little presents and find out
how Mr. James was, and whether he had passed a good night with all
the excitement. And on the way back would Smither call in at Green
Street--it was a little out of her way, but she could take the bus up
Bond Street afterwards; it would be a nice little change for her--and
ask dear Mrs. Dartie to be sure and look in before she went out of town.
All this Smither did--an undeniable servant trained many years ago under
Aunt Ann to a perfection not now procurable. Mr. James, so Mrs. James
said, had passed an excellent night, he sent his love; Mrs. James had
said he was very funny and had complained that he didn't know what all
the fuss was about. Oh! and Mrs. Dartie sent her love, and she would
come to tea.
Aunts Juley and Hester, rather hurt that their presents had not received
special mention--they forgot every year that James could not bear to
receive presents, 'throwing away their money on him,' as he always
called it--were 'delighted'; it showed that James was in good spirits,
and that was so important for him. And they began to wait for Winifred.
She came at four, bringing Imogen, and Maud, just back from school, and
'getting such a pretty girl, too,' so that it was extremely difficult
to ask for news about Annette. Aunt Juley, however, summoned courage to
enquire whether Winifred had heard anything, and if Soames was anxious.
"Uncle Soames is always anxious, Auntie," interrupted Imogen; "he can't
be happy now he's got it."
The words struck familiarly on Aunt Juley's ears. Ah! yes; that funny
drawing of George's, which had not been shown them! But what did Imogen
mean? That her uncle always wanted more than he could have? It was not
at all nice to think like that.
Imogen's voice rose clear and clipped:
"Imagine! Annette's only two years older than me; it must be awful for
her, married to Uncle Soames."
Aunt Juley lifted her hands in horror.
"My dear," she said, "you don't know what you're talking about. Your
Uncle Soames is a match for anybody. He's a very clever man, and
good-looking and wealthy, and most considerate and careful, and not at
all old, considering everything."
Imogen, turning her luscious glance from one to the other of the 'old
dears,' only smiled.