"Deryck really is trying," she said.
The baby's godmother bit her lip. She had found that she could help the doctor's wife best by never contradicting her.
"Very clever people usually are trying," she remarked after a pause, "to those who have to live with them."
Flower wheeled round and looked at her.
"My good Jane, I don't know what you mean! Deryck is perfect to live with, perfect! Have you stayed here ten days without finding that out? He is only trying when he swoops down upon me with a sudden plan and expects me to be ready to rush away with him at a moment's notice. If he had let me know yesterday it might have been managed."
"I gathered he only knew himself this morning."
"That has nothing whatever to do with it. The crux of the whole matter is that I had promised nurse she should have the evening, and I cannot leave the children, with nurse away."
The baby's godmother bent over the grate, took up the poker, and carefully built a little castle of molten coal in the very heart of the bright fire. Her hands looked strong and firm and very capable. Her face flushed as she bent over the glowing flame.
The doctor's wife, cool and dainty, put masses of early white lilac into a tall crystal vase.
Silence reigned.