“Yes,” replied Mrs. Layton, mendaciously, “but I stayed behind to tell you not to be long. I will walk on, as they always have lunch much earlier on Sundays.”
And Mrs. Layton did walk on. She went at a brisk rate, for she was determined not to be cheated out of her dinner by her ungrateful daughter. She therefore arrived at the Hall somewhat heated in mind and body.
“The family are at lunch, madam,” the footman who opened the door informed her, but, nothing daunted, Mrs. Layton walked coolly to the dining-room, and entered unannounced.
The gray-haired squire, who was sitting at the table, rose to receive her, after giving one inquiring glance at his wife, who shrugged her shoulders slightly in reply.
“I wished to see you, Rachel,” began Mrs. Layton, who was very hot, “but you hurried away from church so quickly that I had not the opportunity, and so I followed you on here.”
“Pray be seated, Mrs. Layton,” said Mr. Temple, courteously. “James,” this was to the footman, “place a chair for Mrs. Layton.”
“I must say I feel rather tired,” continued Mrs. Layton, “and shall be glad of a glass of wine. Thanks, Mr. Temple, I know your good wine of old, and I hope you will excuse me when I tell you that I have taken the liberty of asking the vicar to follow me here. I wished to see you, Rachel, on a little business that I could not defer.”
“I dare say it would have waited,” answered Mrs. Temple, coolly. She was annoyed at her mother’s appearance, and she did not care to hide this, nor did she extend any warm welcome to her father when the good vicar came shambling in.
“Your mother said you had kindly invited us, my dear,” explained the vicar. “I am sorry I am late, but there were several things I had to see about before I could leave the vestry.”
“Oh, it is all right,” said Mrs. Temple. At this moment she felt sorry for her poor down-trodden father. She heaped good things on his plate, and ordered some of his favorite old port to be placed on the table. She took very little notice of her mother; she had in truth an immense contempt for the scheming, untruthful little woman who had given her birth.