Helen's question was one of her insolent questions.
("Perhaps his mother ain't such a fool!" reflected James. And he perceived, or imagined he perceived, that their fears of Helen marrying Emanuel were absurd.)
Emanuel sniffed humour in the air. He never understood humour; but he was, at any rate, sufficiently gifted with the wisdom of the simple to smile vaguely and amiably when he sniffed humour.
And then Helen said, with cordial kindliness: "It's awfully good of you—awfully good of you. Here we are, you see!"
And the degree of cordiality was such that the fear of her marrying Emanuel suddenly seemed less absurd to James. The truth was that James never had a moment's peace of mind with Helen. She was continually proving that as a student in the University of Human Nature he had not even matriculated.
Georgiana appeared with an odd cup and saucer, and a giggling statement that she had not been able to discover any more teaspoons.
"Never mind," said Helen. "Mr. Prockter shall have mine."
("Well, I'm hanged!" reflected James.)
Whereupon Georgiana departed, bearing her own tea, into the giant's kitchen. The miserable distinctions of class had been mysteriously established.