“Yes. You might not think so. As I do, probably you wouldn’t. But Ellen’s got a new parasol, and Kate’s got a swollen knee, and has got to have it up.”
“And I suppose it will be just the same with Ellen’s parasol. I suppose you wanted it the other way round—Dot to have the parasol and Ellen to have the——”
“I wanted nothing of the kind. Why should I want my cook to go peacocking about with a pink parasol, making a fool of herself, and bringing disgrace on the house? Why should I want Kate to be incapacitated from doing her proper work?”
“I think,” said Luke, “I must go and see it.”
“Go and see Kate’s knee? Don’t be indelicate.”
“No, I meant the parasol. I should imagine that Dot’s knee has solely a pathological interest at present. But I did mean the parasol—I swear it. How did it come about?”
“Love of finery. Vanity. Passion for wasting her money.”
“Oh, this time I meant the knee—not the parasol.”
“Well, that was just absolute selfishness. All servants love to get swollen knees, and chilblains and chapped hands. They like to make a fuss about themselves. And to make their employer pay a substitute to do their work. They’re all like that. It was just the same before I married. Yes, every housemaid I employ. Contracts these swollen kneeses. They only do it to annoy. Because they know it teases.”
“But what are you going to do about it? Have you got medical advice? Do you think a nurse will be needed? When I had the measles the only things I fancied were——”