"He jests at scars that never felt a wound."—SHAKESPEARE.
"ETHEL, just look at that blind. It hangs all crookedly."
"Yes, mother."
"Now you have pulled it too much the other way. You do things in such a hurry."
Ethel gave a slow pull this time, cheerily, though her mother's tone was depressing. Mrs. Elvey could not be called ill-tempered, but she was given to complaining moods, and such moods were trying to those about her.
"Something must be wrong with the oil we are using now. The lamp has a most disagreeable smell."
"Father noticed it yesterday evening. I'll go to the shop and speak about it to-morrow."
"Yes, do; it is enough to make one positively ill."
"Shall I take away the lamp and light candles?"
"Oh no, that would be extravagant; I must just bear it. What has become of everybody this evening? The house seems so dull."