Mrs. Palmer came back with Elsie behind her. The girl reluctantly laid her face for a moment against each of the withered ones that bumped towards her in conventional greeting.
“Hallo, Aunt Gertie. Hallo, Aunt Ada,” she said lifelessly.
Mrs. Palmer began to pour out the tea, and whilst they ate and drank elegantly, the conversation was allowed to take its course without any reference to the real point at issue.
“What are these Williamses like, that have got the downstairs sitting-room, Edie?”
“Oh, they are nice people,” said Mrs. Palmer enthusiastically. “A solicitor, he is, and only just waiting to find a house. I believe they’ve ever such a lot of furniture in store. They lived at Putney before, but it didn’t suit Mrs. Williams. She’s delicate.”
Mrs. Palmer raised her eyebrows and glanced meaningly at the aunts.
Aunt Ada gazed eagerly back at her.
“Go and get some more bread-and-butter, Elsie,” commanded Mrs. Palmer, and when the girl had left the room she nodded at Aunt Ada.
“You know, Mrs. Williams isn’t very strong just now. She’s been unlucky before, too—twice, I fancy.”
“But when? Surely you aren’t going to have anything like that here?”