“Do you mind lifting him on to a chair, Louisa,” said Mary hastily. The father was too delicate.
When the baby was flannelled, Mr Massy went upstairs and returned with four pillows, which he set in the fender to warm. Then he stood watching the mother feed her child, obsessed by the idea of his infant.
Louisa went on with her preparations for the meal. She could not have told why she was so sullenly angry. Mrs Lindley, as usual, lay silently watching.
Mary carried her child upstairs, followed by her husband with the pillows. After a while he came down again.
“What is Mary doing? Why doesn’t she come down to eat?” asked Mrs Lindley.
“She is staying with baby. The room is rather cold. I will ask the girl to put in a fire.” He was going absorbedly to the door.
“But Mary has had nothing to eat. It is she who will catch cold,” said the mother, exasperated.
Mr Massy seemed as if he did not hear. Yet he looked at his mother-in-law, and answered:
“I will take her something.”
He went out. Mrs Lindley shifted on her couch with anger. Miss Louisa glowered. But no one said anything, because of the money that came to the vicarage from Mr Massy.