She was dying to open the letter, yet she poured out the tea with superhuman leisureliness, and then indicated to Georgie exactly where to search for bits of porridge on his big plate, while George with a great appearance of calm unfolded a newspaper. Then at length she did open the letter. Having read it, she put her lips tighter together, nodded, and passed the letter to George. And George read:
"DEAR MARY,—I cannot accede to your request.—Your affectionate uncle, SAMUEL PEEL.
"P.S.—The expenses connected with my County Council election will be terrible. S.P."
George lifted his eyebrows, as if to indicate that in his opinion there was no accounting for the wild stupidity of human nature, and that he as a philosopher refused to be startled by anything whatever.
"Curt!" he muttered coldly.
Mary uneasily laughed.
"What shall you do?" she inquired.
"Without!" replied George, with a curtness that equalled Mary's uncle's.
"And what about the rent?"
"The rent will have to wait."