“No, I won’t either.”
Hogg resigned himself to making his own tea, and to drinking it in silence.
From this day forth the house became insupportable. Eliza took over, or rather resumed, the management of everything. She had managed Harriet her whole life through, and though she had been obliged to relinquish her post to Shelley during the first few weeks of marriage, she now again took her place on the bridge like a captain on his ship, who runs his flag up to the mast-head, and tolerates no other authority on board.
She began by criticizing severely Shelley’s conduct. “So if I hadn’t come you would have been left alone with this young man? It’s unbelievable! And he calls you ‘dearest’? And you permit him to do so! Good heavens! What would Miss Warne say!”
When Hogg proposed a walk, “What are you thinking of?” said Eliza. “Harriet is very tired, not well at all. . . .”
Hogg was astounded. “Harriet?” he repeated. “What on earth’s the matter with her?”
“It’s her poor nerves, you must be blind not to see it.”
When Harriet wanted to read aloud to Hogg the virtuous counsels of Idomeneus, of which he stood so much in need: “Read aloud, Harriet? Whatever will become of your poor nerves? What would Miss Warne say?”
“Who the deuce is Miss Warne?” Hogg asked Harriet so soon as Eliza had gone to her room.
“She is Eliza’s greatest friend, and we have the highest opinion of her.”