"He did it."
"Your husband?"
"Yes;—he did it. He wrote to the women in my name when I refused." Then Mr. Wharton began to perceive that there had been a quarrel. "I told him Mrs. Leslie oughtn't to come here."
"I don't love Mrs. Leslie,—nor, for the matter of that, Lady Eustace. But they won't hurt the house, my dear."
"And he has had the dinner sent in from a shop."
"Why couldn't he let Mrs. Williams do it?" As he said this, the tone of his voice became for the first time angry.
"Cook has gone away. She wouldn't stand it. And Mrs. Williams is very angry. And Barker wouldn't wait at table."
"What's the meaning of it all?"
"He would have it so. Oh, papa, you don't know what I've undergone. I wish,—I wish we had not come here. It would have been better anywhere else."
"What would have been better, dear?"