Pilar said soberly:
‘The world is very cruel to women. They must do what they can for themselves—while they are young. When they are old and ugly no one will help them.’
Stephen said slowly:
‘That’s more true than I like to think. But it isn’t quite true. Alfred Lee, for instance, was genuinely fond of his father in spite of the old man being thoroughly trying and exacting.’
Pilar’s chin went up.
‘Alfred,’ she said, ‘is rather a fool.’
Stephen laughed.
Then he said:
‘Well, don’t worry, lovely Pilar. The Lees are bound to look after you, you know.’
Pilar said disconsolately:
‘It will not be very amusing, that.’
Stephen said slowly:
‘No, I’m afraid it won’t. I can’t see you living here, Pilar. Would you like to come to South Africa?’
Pilar nodded.
Stephen said:
‘There’s sun there, and space. There’s hard work too. Are you good at work, Pilar?’
Pilar said doubtfully:
‘I do not know.’
He said:
‘You’d rather sit on a balcony and eat sweets all day long? And grow enormously fat and have three double chins?’
Pilar laughed and Stephen said:
‘That’s better. I’ve made you laugh.’
Pilar said:
‘I thought I should laugh this Christmas! In books I have read that an English Christmas is very gay, that one eats burning raisins and there is a plum pudding all in flames, and something that is called a Yule log.’
Stephen said:
‘Ah, but you must have a Christmas uncomplicated by murder. Come in here a minute. Lydia took me in here yesterday. It’s her store-room.’
He led her into a small room little bigger than a cupboard.
‘Look, Pilar, boxes and boxes of crackers, and preserved fruits and oranges and dates and nuts. And here—’
‘Oh!’ Pilar clasped her hands. ‘They are pretty, these gold and silver balls.’
‘Those were to hang on a tree, with presents for the servants. And here are little snowmen all glittering with frost to put on the dinner table. And here are balloons of every colour all ready to blow up!’