“You must have been glad to get rid of the lodgers and have possession of the whole house.”
“Yes” said Mrs. Bailey straightening the sideboard cloth.
Hearty agreement about the advantages and disadvantages of boarders and then, I think it’s very plucky of you and away upstairs. A few words about the interest of having boarders to begin getting to the door with.
“The Irishman’s an interesting specimen of humanity.”
“Isn’t he interesting,” laughed Mrs. Bailey moving further into the room.
“It’s much more interesting to have boarders than lodgers” said Miriam moving along the pathway of freedom towards the open door. Mrs. Bailey stood silent, watching politely. There was no way out. Mrs. Bailey’s presence would be waiting in the hall, and upstairs, unappeased. Miriam glanced towards her without meeting her eyes and sat limply down on the nearest chair.
“Phoo—it’s rather a relief,” she murmured.
Mrs. Bailey went briskly to the door and closed it and came freely back into the room, a little exacting figure who had seen all her selfish rejoicing. She would get up now and walk about the room, talking easily and eloquently about Eleanor’s charm and go away leaving Mrs. Bailey mystified and disposed of.
“My word” declared Mrs. Bailey tweaking the window curtains. Then Mrs. Bailey was ready and anxious to talk her over and impart her opinion. After seeming to like her so much and being so attentive and sending her off so gaily and kindly, she had some grievance. It was not the bill. It was a matter of opinion. Mrs. Bailey had been charmed and had yet seen through her. Seen what? What was the everlasting secret of Eleanor? She imagined them standing talking together, politely, and joking and laughing. Mrs. Bailey would like Eleanor’s jokes; they would be in agreement with her own opinions about things. But she had formed some idea of her and was ready to express it. If it explained anything one would have to accept it, from Mrs. Bailey. To make nice general remarks about her and enquire insincerely about the bill would be never to get Mrs. Bailey’s uninfluenced opinion. She would not give it unless she were asked.
“I’m awfully sorry for her,” she said in Eve’s voice. That would mean just her poverty and her few clothes and delicate health. There could be an insincere discussion. It might end in nothing and the mean selfish joy would still be waiting upstairs as soon as one had forgotten that it was mean and selfish.