He rubbed his head, rather perplexed, rather annoyed.
"I suppose it matters more than her cleverness," he said; "which, after all, would never get her to heaven."
"It's not heaven she wants to get—it's her fair share on earth," retorted Clara. She spoke as if he were responsible for some deprivation which Miss Bonford suffered.
"Well," he said, "I thought she was warm, and awfully nice—only too frail. I wished she was sitting comfortably in peace——"
"'Darning her husband's stockings,'" said Clara scathingly.
"I'm sure she wouldn't mind darning even my stockings," he said. "And I'm sure she'd do them well. Just as I wouldn't mind blacking her boots if she wanted me to."
But Clara refused to answer this sally of his. He talked to Miriam for a little while. The other woman held aloof.
"Well," he said, "I think I'll go and see Edgar. Is he on the land?"
"I believe," said Miriam, "he's gone for a load of coal. He should be back directly."
"Then," he said, "I'll go and meet him."