"Jussy, this is Cardinal de Bricassart!" Dane said in a loud whisper. "Kiss his ring, quickly!"
The blind-looking eyes flashed scorn." "You're a real prawn about religion, Dane," she said without bothering to lower her voice. "Kissing a ring is unhygienic; I won't do it. Besides, how do we know this is Cardinal de Bricassart? He looks like an old-fashioned grazier to me. You know, like Mr. Gordon."
"He is, he is!" insisted Dane. "Please, Jussy, be good! Be good for me!" "I'll be good, but only for you. But I won't kiss his ring, even for you. Disgusting. How do I know who kissed it last? They might have had a cold." "You don't have to kiss my ring, Justine. I'm here on a holiday; I'm not being a cardinal at the moment."
"That's good, because I'll tell you frankly, I'm an atheist," said Meggie Cleary's daughter calmly. "After four years at Kincoppal I think it's all a load of utter codswallop."
"That's your privilege," said Cardinal Ralph, trying desperately to look as dignified and serious as she did. "May I find your grandmother?" "Of course. Do you need us?" Justine asked.
"No, thank you. I know my way."
"Good." She turned to her brother, still gaping up at the visitor. "Come on, Dane, help me. Come on!"
But though Justine tugged painfully at his arm, Dane stayed to watch Cardinal Ralph's tall, straight figure disappear behind the roses. "You really are a prawn, Dane. What's so special about him?" "He's a cardinal!" said Dane. "Imagine that! A real live cardinal on Drogheda!"
"Cardinals," said Justine, "are Princes of the Church. I suppose you're right, it is rather extraordinary. But I don't like him."
Where else would Fee be, except at her desk? He stepped through the windows into the drawing room, but these days that necessitated opening a screen. She must have heard him, but kept on working, back bent, the lovely golden hair gone to silver. With difficulty he remembered she must be all of seventy-two years old.
"Hello, Fee," he said.
When she raised her head he saw a change in her, of what precise nature he couldn't be sure; the indifference was there, but so were several other things. As if she had mellowed and hardened simultaneously, become more human, yet human in a Mary Carson mold. God, these Drogheda matriarchs! Would it happen to Meggie, too, when her turn came?
"Hello, Ralph," she said, as if he stepped through the windows every day. "How nice to see you."
"Nice to see you, too."
"I didn't know you were in Australia."
"No one does. I have a few weeks" holiday."
"You're staying with us, I hope?"
"Where else?" His eyes roamed round the magnificent walls, rested on Mary Carson's portrait. "You know, Fee, your taste is impeccable, unerring. This room rivals anything in the Vatican. Those black egg shapes with the roses are 4 stroke of genius."
"Why, thank you! We try our humble best. Personally I prefer the dining room; I've done it again since you were here last. Pink and white and green. Sounds awful, but wait until you see it. Though why I try, I don't know. It's your house, isn't it?"
"Not while there's a Cleary alive, Fee," he said quietly. "How comforting. Well, you've certainly come up in the world since your Gilly days, haven't you? Did you see the Herald article about your promotion?"
He winced. "I did. Your tongue's sharpened, Fee."
"Yes, and what's more, I'm enjoying it. All those years I shut up and never said a thing! I didn't know what I was missing." She smiled. "Meggie's in Gilly, but she'll be back soon."
Dane and Justine came through the windows.
"Nanna, may we ride down to the borehead?"
"You know the rules. No riding unless your mother gives her permission personally. I'm sorry, but they're your mother's orders. Where are your manners? Come and be introduced to our visitor."
"I've already met them."
"Oh."
"I'd have thought you'd be away at boarding school," he said to Dane, smiling.
"Not in December, Your Eminence. We're off for two months-the summer holidays."
Too many years away; he had forgotten that southern hemisphere children would enjoy their long vacation during December and January.
"Are you going to be staying here long, Your Eminence?" Dane queried, still fascinated.
"His Eminence will be with us for as long as he can manage, Dane," said his grandmother, "but I think he's going to find it a little wearing to be addressed as Your Eminence all the time. What shall it be? Uncle Ralph?" "Uncle!" exclaimed Justine. "You know "uncle' is against the family rules, Nanna! Our uncles are just Bob, Jack, Hughie, Jims and Patsy. So that means he's Ralph."
"Don't be so rude, Justine! What on earth's the matter with your manners?" demanded Fee.
"No, Fee, it's all right. I'd prefer that everyone call me plain Ralph, really," the Cardinal said quickly. Why did she dislike him so, the odd mite? "I couldn't!" gasped Dane. "I couldn't call you just Ralph!"
Cardinal Ralph crossed the room, took the bare shoulders between his hands and smiled down, his blue eyes very kind, and vivid in the room's shadows. "Of course you can, Dane. It isn't a sin."
"Come on, Dane, let's get back to the cubbyhouse," Justine ordered. Cardinal Ralph and his son turned toward Fee, looked at her together. "Heaven help us!" said Fee. "Go on, Dane, go outside and play, will you?" She clapped her hands. "Buzz!"
The boy ran for his life, and Fee edged toward her books. Cardinal Ralph took pity on her and announced that he would go to the cookhouse. How little the place had changed! Still lamplit, obviously. Still redolent of beeswax and great vases of roses.