So here was Maud, dressed for church, allowing Mrs. Dean to clasp her unresponsive hand, and saying: "You see, I always go to church on Christmas Day."
"You mustn't dream of letting me upset any of your plans! That I couldn't bear!" said Mrs. Dean.
"Oh no!" replied Maud, taking this for granted.
"I ought to apologise for thrusting myself upon you at such a time," pursued Mrs. Dean. "But I know that you will understand a mother's feelings, dear Mrs. Herriard."
"I haven't any children," Maud said. "I am sure no one minds your being here in the least. It is such a large house: there is always room."
"Ah!" said Mrs. Dean, struggling against the odds. "The joy of always having a room for a friend! How I envy you, living in such a beautiful place!"
"I believe thee house is generally very much admired," said Maud. "I do not care for old houses myself."
There did not seem to be anything to say to this, so Mrs. Dean tried a new form of attack. Lowering her voice, she said: "You must let me tell you how very, very deeply I feel for you in your tragic loss."
The defences remained intact. "It has all been very shocking," said Maud, "but I never cared for my brother in-law, so I do not feel much sense of loss."
Joseph fidgeted uncomfortably, and darted an anguished look of appeal at Mathilda, who had by this time joined Maud. But it was Sturry, entering the hall from the back of the house, who came to the rescue. "The car, madam, is At the Door," he announced.