It was the signal for Mrs. Wright to plunge into personal gossip, and she did so with zest. But she kept a motherly eye upon her visitor notwithstanding, missing no detail of her appearance and general demeanour. There was plenty to be said, Mrs. Wright was always voluble, but she was not a selfish talker. She did not monopolize the conversation, and she never lost sight of her listener.
Maud's sympathy was quite unfeigned. She liked to hear about Mrs. Wright's various interests, and there was a genial warmth in the atmosphere that did her good.
"Let me come into the kitchen with you and help you make the toast!" she begged at length.
And after a brief demur, Mrs. Wright consented. Tom was out and there would be no one to disturb them. She would not have dreamed of permitting Tom to sit down in the kitchen with Jake's princess.
So to the kitchen they went, and finding it cosier than the parlour, decided to remain there to partake of the meal they had prepared, Mrs. Wright, albeit sorely against her will occupying the wooden armchair of state, while Maud sat close to her knees on the fender.
"You're looking very thin, dear," Mrs. Wright checked her chatter to observe, as she put down her final cup of tea.
"It's my nature to be thin," Maud said.
Mrs. Wright permitted herself a more critical survey. "I wonder what Jake thinks," she said. "I shouldn't feel happy about you if I were Jake."
Maud smiled faintly into the fire and said nothing.
Mrs. Wright's plump hand stole down to her shoulder. "I hope as he's being good to you, dearie," she murmured.