Joseph stepped forward, laying one hand on Stephen's shoulder, the other on Mottisfont's. "Oh, my dear people, hush!" he said gently. "Don't let us forget - don't let us allow our nerves to get the better of us!"
"I will ring the bell," said Maud, doing so.
"Have you sent for the police?" Paula asked her brother.
"We won't talk of that, dear child," said Joseph, with misplaced optimism.
Paula's words appeared to let loose pent-up excitement. Even Mathilda heard herself saying: "But who could it have possibly been?" In the middle of this valueless Babel, Sturry came in, his countenance schooled to an expression of rigid gloom. He stood by the door, a mute at the funeral.
"Ah, here is our good Sturry!" said Joseph, drawing him into the family circle by this affectionate address.
Sturry would not be so drawn. He stood immovable, despising people who did not know their places. "You rang, sir?" he asked frigidly.
"Yes, yes!" Joseph said. "You have heard the terrible news? I need not ask you!"
"No, sir. The news was conveyed to the Hall by Ford. I am extremely sorry to hear of the occurrence, sir."
"Ah, Sturry, you must feel it too! What a tragedy! What a terrible shock!"