From the dining-room window Mrs Yule was aware of this arrival, and in a few moments she learnt the unspeakable cause.
She burst into tears, genuine as ever woman shed.
‘There’s no use in that, mother,’ said Amy, whose temper was in a dangerous state. ‘Nothing worse can happen, that’s one consolation.’
‘Oh, it’s disgraceful! disgraceful!’ sobbed Mrs Yule. ‘What we are to say I can NOT think.’
‘I shall say nothing whatever. People can scarcely have the impertinence to ask us questions when we have shown that they are unwelcome.’
‘But there are some people I can’t help giving some explanation to. My dear child, he is not in his right mind. I’m convinced of it, there! He is not in his right mind.’
‘That’s nonsense, mother. He is as sane as I am.’
‘But you have often said what strange things he says and does; you know you have, Amy. That talking in his sleep; I’ve thought a great deal of it since you told me about that. And—and so many other things. My love, I shall give it to be understood that he has become so very odd in his ways that—’
‘I can’t have that,’ replied Amy with decision. ‘Don’t you see that in that case I should be behaving very badly?’
‘I can’t see that at all. There are many reasons, as you know very well, why one shouldn’t live with a husband who is at all suspected of mental derangement. You have done your utmost for him. And this would be some sort of explanation, you know. I am so convinced that there is truth in it, too.’