In order to continue in activity, she went to mend the fire.
"Let it out," said Mr. Earlforward. "I'm too hot."
She desisted, well knowing that he was not too hot, but that he hated to see good coal consumed in a grate where it had never been consumed before. From pity she must humour him. What did it matter whether the fire was in or out?—the doctor would be coming for him very soon. Then a flicker of thought for herself: after the departure of Mr. Earlforward, would she have to stay and mind the place till something else happened, or would she be told to go, and let the place mind itself? Very probably she would be told to stay. She opened the door.
"Where are you going now?"
"I was just going to make your arrowroot, sir. That was what missis was giving you. At least, it looks like arrowroot."
"Come here. I want to talk to you. Have you opened the shop?"
"No, sir."
A long pause.
"Bring me up the letters, and let me have my glasses."
He had accepted, in his practical, compromising philosophy, the impressive fact that the shop had not been and would not be opened.