“Now I beg of you, Delia,” said the Professor, leaning forward earnestly, “not to send Mrs Cooper away. She’s a very poor woman, and would miss the money. She told me only the last time she was here that the doctor had ordered cod-liver oil for the twins, and she couldn’t afford to give it them.”
“Oh, the twins!” said Delia, with a little scorn.
“Well, my dear, she has twins; she brought them here once in a perambulator.”
“But that’s no reason at all she should not attend properly to you,” said Delia.
Mr Goodwin put down his cup of coffee, which he had begun to drink with great relish, and looked thoroughly cast down.
Delia laughed a little.
“Well, I won’t, then,” she said. “Mrs Cooper shall stay, and neglect her duties, and spoil your food as long as you like.”
“Thank you, my dear,” said the Professor, brightening up again, “she really does extremely well, though, of course, she doesn’t”—glancing at the table—“make things look so nice as you do.”
Delia blamed herself for staying away so long, when she saw with what contented relish her old friend applied himself to the simple fare she had prepared; it made her thoroughly ashamed to think that he should have suffered neglect through her small feelings of jealousy and pride. He should not be left for a whole fortnight again to Mrs Cooper’s tender mercies.
“We are to have a lesson to-night, I hope,” said Mr Goodwin presently; “it must be a long time since we had one, Delia, isn’t it?”