"I would do it. You are in my house, Lady Wychcote."
"My son's house...."
"I am his wife. I must do what I know that he would wish."
Just here Gaynor knocked at the door.
"Mr. Chesney is asking for you, madam," he said to Sophy.
"Does he know that I am here?" put in Lady Wychcote quickly.
"No, your ladyship. He is hardly himself yet. I have told him nothing."
"Are you going to see him?" asked she, in a hard, angry voice, turning to Sophy.
"Yes."
"I suppose at least that you will have the—the...." She choked on the word. She longed to say "decency," but the servant's presence forbade. "... The civility to tell him that his mother is here and wishes to see him," she wound up sullenly.