"Do I seem to you sad? I hope not," said Mrs. Durrant.

"Well, just now. You're NOT old."

"Old enough to be Timothy's mother." They stopped.

Miss Eliot was looking through Mr. Clutterbuck's telescope at the edge
of the terrace. The deaf old man stood beside her, fondling his beard,
and reciting the names of the constellations: "Andromeda, Bootes,
Sidonia, Cassiopeia. ..."

"Andromeda," murmured Miss Eliot, shifting the telescope slightly.

Mrs. Durrant and Charlotte looked along the barrel of the instrument
pointed at the skies.

"There are MILLIONS of stars," said Charlotte with conviction. Miss
Eliot turned away from the telescope. The young men laughed suddenly in
the dining-room.

"Let ME look," said Charlotte eagerly.

"The stars bore me," said Mrs. Durrant, walking down the terrace with
Julia Eliot. "I read a book once about the stars. ... What are they
saying?" She stopped in front of the dining-room window. "Timothy," she
noted.

"The silent young man," said Miss Eliot.