"What time did you come in?" she said. "At twelve o'clock."
"And you have had your first course?"
"Yes."
"And waited twenty minutes for your dessert?"
"Yes!" (snappishly).
"How can that be when you came in at twelve o'clock, and it is now only ten minutes past?"
Of course there was nothing to say in answer, but whether the girl took it to heart and so raised her standard of quiet one little bit, I do not know.
One can deposit a fearful amount of strain in the brain with only a few moments' impatience.
I use the word "fearful" advisedly, for when the strain is once deposited it is not easily removed, especially when every day and every moment of every day is adding to the strain.
The strain of hurry makes contractions in brain and body with which it is impossible to work freely and easily or to accomplish as much as might be done without such contractions.