LIFE AND LETTERS
989
only because we've grown up in a world of wars and economic misery
where there's only time for essentials."
Mrs. Searle looked at her with amusement.
"If
it comes to es–
sentials" she said "elegance and beauty seem to me far more essential
than wars."
"Of course they are" said Elspeth "but they can't have any
reality until we've straightened out the muddle and misery in the
world."
"In the world?" echoed Miranda. "I should have thought ones
own private miseries were enough."
"Poor Mrs. Searle" said Elspeth "it must have hit you very badly.
Were you very fond of him? Did they break the news clumsily? Won't
you tell me about it?" And she wondered as she said it whether she did
not sound a little too much as though she were speaking to a child,
but after all the woman was a child emotionally, a child that was
badly in need of re-education.
Miranda stopped picking for a minute and straightened herself;
when she looked at Elspeth, she was laughing.
"Oh my dear Miss Eccles! I do believe you're trying to get me
to 'share.' And I never even guessed that you were a Grouper."
"I'm not a Grouper" said Elspeth. "I'm not even what you
would call religious, that is I don't believe in God" she added lamely.
But Miranda Searle took no notice. "Oh what fun!" she cried.
"Now you can tell me all about those house-parties and the dreadful
things that people confess to. I've always wanted to hear about that.
I remember when the Dean of St. Mary'S shared once. He got up in
public and said that he'd slept with his niece. It wasn't true, of course,
because I know for a fact that he's impotent. But still it was rather
sweet of him, because she's a terribly plain girl and it gave her a sexual
cachet that brought her wild successes. After that I went through
Oxford inventing the most wonderful things that I said people had
shared with me until I was threatened with libel by the entire Theo–
logical Faculty."
"Oh, it's quite impossible" said Elspeth and in her agitation she
overturned the bowl of gooseberries. She felt glad to hide her scarlet
face and her tears of vexation in an agitated attempt to pick them up.
"Oh please, please" said Miranda. "It couldn't matter less." At
that moment the tweed-clothed knickerbockered figure of Mr. Searle
