
'So, James,' she said, 'you are party of this conspiracy that ditches us the moment war breaks out again.' She caught her bottom lip between her teeth and Quilhampton mumbled ineffectual protests. He looked from Elizabeth to Drinkwater who came in behind her. His face was immobile.
'Oh, I know very well how your minds work… You are like children…' Her voice softened. 'You are worse than children.' She turned to her husband. 'You had better find something with which to drink to your new command.' She smiled sadly as Drinkwater stepped suddenly forward and raised her hand to his lips. She seated herself and he went in search of a bottle, waving Quilhampton to a chair.
'Look after him for me James,' she said quietly. 'His wound will trouble him for many months yet, you know how tetchy he becomes when the wind is in the south-west and the weather thickens up.'
Quilhampton nodded, moved by Elizabeth's appeal.
'This is the last of Dick White's malmsey.' Drinkwater re-entered the room blowing the dust off a bottle. He was followed by the dark-haired figure of his daughter who swept into the room in a state of high excitement.
'Mama, mama! Dickon has fallen into the Tilbrook!'
'What did you say?' Elizabeth rose and Drinkwater paused in the act of drawing the cork.
'Oh, it's all right,' Charlotte said, 'Susan has him quite safe. He's all wet, though…'
'Thank God for that. How did it happen?'
'Oh, he was a damned lubber, Mama…'
'Charlotte!' Elizabeth suppressed a smile that rose unchecked on the features of the two men. 'That is no way for a young lady to speak!'
Charlotte pouted until she caught the eye of her father.
'Perhaps,' said Elizabeth, seeing the way the wind blew, 'perhaps it would be better if you two went to sea again.' And then she began to explain to Charlotte Amelia that old King George had written a letter to Papa from Windsor and that Papa was to go away again and fight the King's enemies. And James Quilhampton sipped his celebratory malmsey guiltily, aware of the reproach in Elizabeth's gentle constancy.
