"If you don't mind—if I might say just a few words," pleaded poor Julia, really to be pitied, for she was almost equally afraid of her husband's displeasure on one side and Hermione's anger on the other, not to speak of Francesca's sneers.
"Well?" Hermione answered.
"May I come in? I don't like to talk outside, for fear of being overheard."
Hermione yielded so far as to retreat three or four steps, carefully keeping her back to the light. Julia entered, shutting the door.
"I wanted so much to say to you—Harvey and I hope you will not mind Francesca. It is her way to say sharp things, but nobody thinks anything of it. She has always done so. Harvey is excessively annoyed. He says he hopes you will come with us to Eastbourne, of course; but she ought not to have said what she did."
Julia's apologies might have had more effect, but for Hermione's smarting consciousness of her own miserable failure.
"I do not see that there was any need to discuss the question with Harvey. I must decide for myself."
"Yes, of course—I did not mean to discuss it, indeed. Only I knew Francesca would talk, and I thought it might be kindest to tell him myself first."
"Thanks!"
The manner was absolutely repellent. Julia shrank under it. Her mission seemed a non-success thus far, but she would not at once give up hope.