“What, has she been saying something about last night?” he asked.
“She was very much concerned for me-was afraid something dreadful had happened,” continued Helena, in the same keen, sarcastic tone, which showed she was trying to rid herself of her own mortification.
“Because we weren’t in till about eleven?” said Siegmund, also with sarcasm.
“I mustn’t do it again. Oh no, I mustn’t do it again, really.”
“For fear of alarming the old lady?” he asked.
“‘You know, dear, it troubles me a good deal … but if I were your mother, I don’t know how I should feel,’” she quoted.
“When one engages rooms one doesn’t usually stipulate for a stepmother to nourish one’s conscience,” said Siegmund. They laughed, making jest of the affair; but they were both too thin-skinned. Siegmund writhed within himself with mortification, while Helena talked as if her teeth were on edge.
“I don’t mind in the least,” she said. “The poor old woman has her opinions, and I mine.”
Siegmund brooded a little.
“I know I’m a moral coward,” he said bitterly.