“Thank God for our good dinner, Amen.—Mother, I must just run upstairs to my room.” (‘MY room’-Sophia being far away.)
And off she ran, strangely girlish.
“Well, child, you needn’t be in such a hurry,” said Mrs. Baines, ringing the bell and rising.
She hoped that Constance would remember the conditions precedent to sleep.
“I should like to have a word with you, if it’s all the same to you, Mrs. Baines,” said Mr. Povey suddenly, with obvious nervousness. And his tone struck a rude unexpected blow at Mrs. Baines’s peace of mind. It was a portentous tone.
“What about?” asked she, with an inflection subtly to remind Mr. Povey what day it was.
“About Constance,” said the astonishing man.
“Constance!” exclaimed Mrs. Baines with a histrionic air of bewilderment.
Maggie entered the room, solely in response to the bell, yet a thought jumped up in Mrs. Baines’s brain, “How prying servants are, to be sure!” For quite five seconds she had a grievance against Maggie. She was compelled to sit down again and wait while Maggie cleared the table. Mr. Povey put both his hands in his pockets, got up, went to the window, whistled, and generally behaved in a manner which foretold the worst.
At last Maggie vanished, shutting the door.