The Vision of Desire | Page 9

of heaven,
with seating accommodation for the angels--cherubim and seraphim,
and so on--in tiers? The general effect was rather like a plan of the
Albert Hall"--smiling reminiscently. "Seriously, though, Philip, if the
boy wants work, in the name of common sense, let him have it."
"There's plenty of work for him at Lorne"--stubbornly. "Let him learn
to manage the property. That's what I want--and what I'll have. God

bless my soul! What have I brought the boy up for? To be a comfort in
my old age, of course, and a credit to the name. Architect be hanged!"
As he spoke there came the sound of footsteps in the hall outside--light,
buoyant steps--and Lady Susan's face brightened.
"That will be Ann," she said. Adding quickly, as though to conclude the
subject they had been discussing: "I warn you, Philip, you're driving the
boy on too tight a rein."
Sir Philip greeted Ann good-humouredly. In spite of the fact that she
showed no disposition to fall in with his wishes and marry Tony, he
was extremely fond of her. She was one of the few people who had
never been afraid of him. She even contradicted him flatly at times, and,
like most autocrats, he found her attitude a refreshing change from that
of the majority of people with whom he came in contact.
"Seen Tony in the town?" he demanded. It was evident the boy was
hardly ever out of his thoughts.
"Yes. We've just been having tea together."
Sir Philip nodded approvingly.
"Excellent, excellent. Keep him out of mischief, like a good girl."
Ann laughed, a shade scornfully, but vouchsafed no answer, and soon
afterwards Sir Philip took his departure.
"The twelve-thirty steamer to-morrow, then, Susan," he said as he
shook hands. "I'll call for you in the car on my way to the
débarcadère."
When he had gone Lady Susan and Ann exchanged glances.
"I've been telling him he drives Tony on too tight a rein," said the
former, answering the unspoken question in the girl's eyes.
"It's absurd of him," declared Ann indignantly. "He tries to keep him

tied to his apron-strings as if he were a child. And he's not! He's a man.
He's been through that beastly war. Probably he knows heaps more
about life--the real things of life--than Sir Philip himself, who wants to
dictate everything he may or may not do."
"Probably he does. And that's just the trouble. When you get a terribly
experienced younger generation and a hide-bound older one there are
liable to be fireworks."
"All I can say is that if Sir Philip won't let him have a little more
freedom, he'll drive Tony just the way he doesn't want him to go."
Lady Susan's keen glance scrutinised the girl's troubled face.
"You can't help it, you know," she remarked briefly.
"That's just it," answered Ann uncertainly. "I sometimes wonder if I
could--ought to--" She broke off, leaving her sentence unfinished.
Lady Susan, apparently not noticing her embarrassment, gathered up
her belongings preparatory to leaving the room.
"Marrying to reform a rake never pays," she said in level tones. "It's
like rolling a stone uphill."
"But Tony isn't a rake!" protested Ann, flushing quickly. "There's any
amount of good in him, and he might--might steady down if he were
married."
"Let him steady down before marriage, not after"--grimly. "A woman
may throw her whole life's happiness into the scales and still fail to turn
the balance. Without love--the love that can forgive seventy times
seven and then not be tired--she'll certainly fail. And you don't love
Tony."
It was an assertion rather than a question, yet Ann felt that Lady Susan
was waiting for an answer.
"N-no," she acknowledged at last. "But I feel as though he belongs to

me in a way. You see, Virginia 'left' him to me."
"You're not called upon to marry a legacy," retorted Lady Susan.
Ann smiled.
"No, I suppose not." She was silent a moment. "I wish Sir Philip didn't
lead him such a life. It's more than any man could be expected to
stand."
Lady Susan paused in the doorway.
"Well, my dear, don't vex your soul too much about it all. However
badly people mismanage our affairs for us, things have a wonderful
way of working out all right in the long run."
Left alone, Ann strolled out on to the balcony which overlooked the
lake, and, leaning her arms on the balustrade, yielded to the current of
her thoughts. Notwithstanding Lady Susan's cheery optimism, she was
considerably worried about Tony. She could see so exactly what it was
that fretted him--this eternal dancing attendance on Sir Philip, who
insisted on the boy's accompanying him wherever he went, and she felt
a sudden angry contempt for the selfishness of old age which could