"He was father's greatest friend," continued Rachel, "and I had such a lot to talk to him about. It will just make all the difference having a third person."
"Yes, I can understand that, if it were a stranger, but after all it is only my mother. She need make no difference."
He was just a little surprised at his wife, and could not understand why she should make a trouble of it.
Rachel did not speak. Her heart was hot within her. How blind Luke was! Were all men like him? Surely he must have noticed how impossible it was for her to be her best in his mother's presence, being conscious, as she was, of her critical spirit.
Then she glanced across at her husband. He was looking perplexed and a little worried. And had she not registered a vow that he should never be worried with her smallnesses?
"O well, it does not really matter," she said with a faint laugh. "I am apt to make mountains of molehills I expect. Don't look so grave Luke. Of course you were quite right to ask your mother. She would no doubt have been pained if you had not done so, and it will be all right. As for food there will be plenty. I have been quite reckless on the Bishop's behalf. But you must not blame me for my extravagance."
"He won't expect a spread," said Luke.
"I know. And probably would be quite happy with only bread and cheese. But I love to give him of the best." Her laugh made her husband forget that his news had worried her, and the faint surprise he had experienced disappeared.
In the evening as Luke was out Rachel told Polly to bring in all the silver and she would give it an extra rub.
"Everything must shine as brightly as possible to-morrow Polly," she said.