"Now, you didn't expect to see me, did you?" she asked, in her round comfortable voice, which exactly suited her stout and motherly figure. "But I'm come. I told Mrs. Dunn I'd do it for her—get you your tea, I mean, and wash up. Dear! I never thought I should find you like this—that I didn't. There's never no knowing what'll happen next, and that's a fact. Well—I'll put your kettle on to boil, first thing. And so Mrs. Dunn's been looking after you all this while. Just like her! She's got enough to do at home, though, and I told her I'd come instead. But to think now of your stealing a march on me, like that! To think of it!"
Mrs. Stuart failed to understand Mrs. Mason's meaning, and she intimated the same in gloomy tones.
"What I mean! Why, I mean the Dunns, to be sure," said Mrs. Mason briskly. "The nicest family that's come to Littleburgh for a year past. And as soon as ever I'm out of the way, you've gone and stolen a march on me, and got as intimate with 'em! No, I didn't expect it of you, I did not, Mrs. Stuart!"
Mrs. Mason shook her head vigorously. But Mrs. Stuart was in no humour for joking, and she intimated that fact also in yet gloomier accents.
"A joke don't do nobody any harm," said Mrs. Mason, "provided it's harmless. There's jokes and jokes. There's a sort that's better avoided. But I'd sooner laugh than cry over a worry any day. You wouldn't be half such a skinny scarecrow of a woman, if you was to laugh oftener, and glower seldomer over your frets. That you wouldn't."
Mrs. Mason was too useful a woman to be quarrelled with for her plain-spokenness; but certainly, her remarks did not lessen Mrs. Stuart's moodiness.
"That Nancy Dunn is the best and prettiest girl ever I see!" remarked Mrs. Mason.
Mrs. Stuart grunted.
"Isn't she now?" asked Mrs. Mason.
"I've got nothing to say against her," declared Mrs. Stuart, with the air of one suppressing truths.