“No; he can't be coming,” she returned, hurriedly, and again warned him by a shake of her head. “Be quiet!”
“Oh, well——” he muttered.
“Sit down!”
He was thoroughly mystified, but obeyed her gesture and went to the rocking-chair in the opposite corner, where he sat down, and, with an expression of meek inquiry, awaited events.
Meanwhile, Alice prattled on: “It's really not a fault of mine, being tardy. The shameful truth is I was trying to hurry papa. He's incorrigible: he stays so late at his terrible old factory—terrible new factory, I should say. I hope you don't HATE us for making you dine with us in such fearful weather! I'm nearly dying of the heat, myself, so you have a fellow-sufferer, if that pleases you. Why is it we always bear things better if we think other people have to stand them, too?” And she added, with an excited laugh: “SILLY of us, don't you think?”
Gertrude had just made her entrance from the dining-room, bearing a tray. She came slowly, with an air of resentment; and her skirt still needed adjusting, while her lower jaw moved at intervals, though not now upon any substance, but reminiscently, of habit. She halted before Adams, facing him.
He looked plaintive. “What you want o' me?” he asked.
For response, she extended the tray toward him with a gesture of indifference; but he still appeared to be puzzled. “What in the world——?” he began, then caught his wife's eye, and had presence of mind enough to take a damp and plastic sandwich from the tray. “Well, I'll TRY one,” he said, but a moment later, as he fulfilled this promise, an expression of intense dislike came upon his features, and he would have returned the sandwich to Gertrude. However, as she had crossed the room to Mrs. Adams he checked the gesture, and sat helplessly, with the sandwich in his hand. He made another effort to get rid of it as the waitress passed him, on her way back to the dining-room, but she appeared not to observe him, and he continued to be troubled by it.
Alice was a loyal daughter. “These are delicious, mama,” she said; and turning to Russell, “You missed it; you should have taken one. Too bad we couldn't have offered you what ought to go with it, of course, but——”
She was interrupted by the second entrance of Gertrude, who announced, “Dinner serve',” and retired from view.