CHAPTER IV
THE ELDER MRS. WYBURN
Romer's mother usually received him with a sarcastic remark, such as "Oh, so you remember that I'm not dead yet?" or "I wonder you find time to come at all," or something of the same nature, calculated to cast a gloom over any visit.
The widow of a rich brewer, Mrs. Wyburn lived in a bad-tempered looking old house in Curzon Street, with a harassed footman, a domineering maid, a cross cook, and other servants that were continually changing. She was one of those excellent housekeepers who spend most of their time "giving notice" and "taking up" characters. She nearly always wore a hard-looking black silk dress. She had parted black hair, long earrings, and a knot of rare old imitation lace at her throat. Eagerness, impatience, love of teasing and sharp wit were visible in her face to one who could read between the lines. But, notwithstanding this, as she had a soft heart and plenty of hard cash, she was not altogether unpopular. People enjoyed going to hear the nasty things she said about their friends. She had a real succès de scandale on her Wednesdays, notwithstanding the fact that a more highly respectable lady had never existed in the world.
She adored Romer, although his slow speech and long pauses often drove her to the very verge of violence.
"Thought I'd look in," he remarked, rather heavily taking a seat in the dark drawing-room, and he proceeded by slow stages to tell her that he was coming to dinner on Thursday because Valentia was going out.
She gave him a quick look, combined of motherly pride and annoyance.
"Delighted, of course, dear. Who did you say was Valentia's hostess?"
"She's going with Daphne. Harry's dinner. At some restaurant."
"Oh, indeed!... Well, if you approve of these Bohemian arrangements it's not my business. I have my own opinion of Harry de Freyne; I always have had—and I shall keep it."