She had a peculiar spiritual significance to Mrs. Stephen Dallison, being just on the borderline between those of Bianca's friends whom Cecilia did not wish and those whom she did wish to come to her own house, for Stephen, a barrister in an official position, had a keen sense of the ridiculous. Since Hilary wrote books and was a poet, and Bianca painted, their friends would naturally be either interesting or queer; and though for Stephen's sake it was important to establish which was which, they were so very often both. Such people stimulated, taken in small doses, but neither on her husband's account nor on her daughter's did Cecilia desire that they should come to her in swarms. Her attitude of mind towards them was, in fact, similar-a sort of pleasurable dread-to that in which she purchased the Westminster Gazette to feel the pulse of social progress.
Mrs. Tallents Smallpeace's dark little eyes twinkled.
“I hear that Mr. Stone--that is your father's name, I think--is writing a book which will create quite a sensation when it comes out.”
Cecilia bit her lips. “I hope it never will come out,” she was on the point of saying.
“What will it be called?” asked Mrs. Tallents Smallpeace. “I gather that it's a book of Universal Brotherhood. That's so nice!”
Cecilia made a movement of annoyance. “Who told you?”
“Ah!” said Mrs. Tallents Smallpeace, “I do think your sister gets such attractive people at her At Homes. They all take such interest in things.”
A little surprised at herself, Cecilia answered “Too much for me!”
Mrs. Tallents Smallpeace smiled. “I mean in art and social questions. Surely one can't be too interested in them?”
“Oh no, of course not.” And both ladies looked around them. A buzz of conversation fell on Cecilia's ears.
“Have you seen the 'Aftermath'? It's really quite wonderful!”
The voice of Mrs. Tallents Smallpeace broke through: “But do please tell me who is that young girl with the young man looking at the picture over there. She's quite charming!”
Cecilia's cheeks went a very pretty pink.
“Really! Have you a daughter as big as that? Why, she must be seventeen!”
“Thyme,” said Cecilia, with a little smile. She felt that Mrs. Tallents Smallpeace was about to say: 'How charming!'