To THE LIGHTHOUSEtowards it and greeted it. She kept looking atMinta, shyly, yet curiously, so that Mrs. Ramsaylooked from one to the other and said, speakingto Prue in her own mind, You will be as happy asshe is one of these days. You will be muchhappier, she added, because you are my daughter,she meant; her own daughter must be happierthan other people’s daughters. But dinner wasover. It was time to go. They were only playing with things on their plates. She would waituntil they had done laughing at some story herhusband was telling. He was having a joke withMinta about a bet. Then she would get up.

She liked Charles Tansley, she thought, suddenly; she liked his laugh. She liked him forbeing so angry with Paul and Minta. She likedhis awkwardness. There was a lot in that youngman after all. And Lily, she thought,_puttingher napkin beside her plate, she always has somejoke of her own. One need never bother aboutLily. She waited. She tucked her napkin underthe edge of her plate. Well, were they done now?No. That story had led to another story. Herhusband was in great spirits to-night, and wishing,she supposed, to make it all right with — oldAugustus after that scene about the soup, haddrawn him in——they were telling stories aboutsome one they had both known at college. She170

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