London Calling by Anna Elliott Page B

impossible. I caught him today without his jacket on, and he seemed not in the least ashamed of himself. Indeed, he was quite impertinent when I rebuked him.”
    “Eh? Albert?” Admiral Tremain looked vague. “Always seemed all right to me. What do you say, Charlotte? The boy Albert’s all right, isn’t he?”
    Mrs. Careme, with a little half-laugh, inclined her head, and the Admiral turned back to Miss Fanny with a benign smile. “There, you see, Fanny? Now, don’t you bother about the servants. No need for you to trouble yourself about such matters anymore.”
    Miss Fanny’s thin lips compressed, but she didn’t reply, merely moving off to her own place at the table, fingers still moving compulsively over her beads.
    Susanna found herself seated near the foot of the table, between Mrs. Careme, to her right, and Major Haliday on her left. The food was beautifully prepared, and throughout the first course of turtle soup, green goose, and veal ragout, Mrs. Careme kept up a steady stream of polite conversation, inquiring of Susanna whether this was her first visit to London, whether she had been to the theater, to the opera, to the fireworks demonstration at Vauxhall Gardens.
    She spoke intelligently, and listened with surprisingly polite interest, but Susanna felt throughout that her thoughts were far away. She ate little of the food before her, and once, when the conversation lapsed, her eyes strayed beyond Susanna to Brooke Haliday.
    The Major’s eyes were a trifle over-bright, his color flushed, but his voice was still perfectly clear and distinct.
    ”Yes, I can assure you, Lady Grey’s the horse for Newmarket. If you take my advice, you’ll put a goodly sum on her nose. I assure you, I intend to.”
    He had spoken to the table at large, but only his wife responded. She had been watching him, face taut with disgust, and now she snapped out, “Oh yes? With whose money?”
    There was a long, uncomfortable silence, while the angry color rose under Major Haliday’s collar, and his eyes narrowed. It was Ruth who intervened to avert the crisis. Turning to Major Haliday with her most charming smile, she said, “Do, please, go on with what you were telling me about the Duke of Clarence’s stables. I was so interested in what you had to say about the manner of feeding.”
    Major Haliday hesitated a moment, then relaxed. He poured himself another glass of wine, and began to talk, only a little defiantly.
    Mrs. Careme, after a brief pause, turned back to Susanna. “And you say you have not been to the theater, Miss Ward? Then you and your aunt must come with us on Tuesday. Admiral Tremain intends to take us all to Covent Garden. We should be most pleased to have you join us.”
    “Eh?” The Admiral had caught the last of this speech, and looked up. “The theater?” He frowned. “Yes, I’m afraid I have bad news, Charlotte. I shan’t be able to escort you after all. The War Office has called an important meeting I must attend.”
    “The War Office.” Mrs. Careme made a slight face. “I’m sure they see far more of you than we do.”
    “I know, my dear, I know. But duty calls, you know, in times of war.”
    “War.” Mrs. Careme turned to Susanna with an elegant lift of the shoulders. “I don’t understand why there ought to be a war at all. It seems so unnecessary. And terribly inconvenient. The Admiral tells me it would be too dangerous for us to travel to Paris at all this year.”
    Susanna felt her pulse quicken and tried to frame a question that would arouse no suspicion; young ladies were not expected to know about, much less converse on, affairs of state. “You are fond of Paris?” she asked at last.
    “I was brought up there. I lived there until I was fourteen.”
    Susanna nodded. “I see.” That accounted for the faint accent.
    “It’s this wretched Napoleon,” Mrs. Careme went on. “In my opinion, the French people ought simply to expel him from the country. Then we could call