Sanchia replied
to her assumptions and suppositions by saying simply that she didn't know
where Mr. Ingram was, and that he was no better informed of her than she
of him. But surely--Philippa raised her brows--but surely she knew when he
was coming to London? Sanchia's head-shake shocked her. There was but one
conclusion to be drawn from it.
"There's been a quarrel," then said she.
"No," Sanchia answered--as if thinking it out--"no, I shouldn't say that.
I should say, a difference of opinion."
"My dear," said Philippa--and the phrase with her was one of reproof--"on
essentials there can have been none. He will wait a year, of course. Under
the circumstances, a full year. But--"
Sanchia had replied, "I don't know what he means to do. I have left
Wanless."
"Oh, of course, of course. But--I was going to say--I fully expect that he
has written to Mamma." Sanchia's eyebrows and her, "I should think that
unlikely. Why should he write to Mamma?" frightened Philippa, while to Mr.
Tompsett-King's mind they were clear gain. It was necessary, after it, to
get on to surer ground. The interview terminated by an understanding that
Sanchia should write to her mother.
Philippa took her husband to dine in Great Cumberland Place that night;
and there, he with Mr.
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