The studied insolence of the apology was infinitely worse than the coldness of her manner. I waited for a moment to control myself before answering her.
"I am afraid that you are really ill," I said as cordially as I could. "I am so sorry to have kept you waiting, but I did not expect you quite so soon, and I had some errands."
"It doesn't matter," she said indifferently. Her manner put me aside from her consideration as if I had been a child or a servant. She turned to Dicky.
"Are we almost there, dear?"
The warmth of her tones to him, the love displayed in every inflection, set out in more bitter contrast the coldness with which she was treating me.
"Right here now," as the taxi drew up to the door of the apartment house. There was a peculiar inflection in Dicky's voice. I stole a glance at him. He was gazing at his mother with a puzzled look. I fancied I saw also a trace of displeasure. But it vanished in another minute as he sprang to the ground, paid the driver and helped his mother and me out.
She leaned heavily on his arm as we went up the stairs to the third floor upon which our apartment was.
At the door, Katie, who evidently had heard the taxicab, stood smiling broadly.
"This is Katie, mother," Dicky said kindly. "She will help take care of you."
"How do you do, Katie?" The words were the same, but the tones were much kinder than her greeting to me.