Two.
“Now, now, father!” intervened Mrs Hamps. “You know you’ve said over and over again how glad you are he’s so fond of books, and never goes out. There isn’t a better boy in Bursley. That I will say, and to his face.” She smiled like an angel at both of them.
“You say! You say!” Darius remarked curtly, trying to control himself. A few years ago he would never have used such violent demeanour in her presence.
“And how much easier these shelves will be to keep clean than a bookcase! No polishing. Just a rub, and a wipe with a damp cloth now and then. And no dirt underneath. They will do away with four corners, anyhow. That’s what I think of—eh, poor Maggie! Keeping all this clean. There’ll be work for two women night and day, early and late, and even then—But it’s a great blessing to have water on every floor, that it is! And people aren’t so particular nowadays as they used to be, I fancy. I fancy that more and more.” Mrs Hamps sighed, cheerfully bearing up.
Without a pause she stepped quickly across to Edwin. He wondered what she was at. She merely straightened down the collar of his coat, which, unknown to him, had treacherously allowed itself to remain turned up behind. It had probably been thus misbehaving itself since before dinner, when he had washed.
“Now, I do like my nephew to be tidy,” said Mrs Hamps affectionately. “I’m very jealous for my nephew.” She caressed the shoulders of the coat, and Edwin had to stand still and submit. “Let me see, it’s your birthday next month, isn’t it?”
“Yes, auntie.”
“Well, I know he hasn’t got a lot of money. And I know his father hasn’t any money to spare just now—what with all these expenses—the house—”
“Ye may well say it, sister!” Darius growled.