Sir Isaac had a bright idea. He rang.
“Snagsby,” he said, “just tell Peters to pack up Lady Harman’s things....”
“Well!” said Lady Harman, as the door closed on Snagsby. Her mind was full of confused protest, but she had again that entirely feminine and demoralizing conviction that if she tried to express it she would weep or stumble into some such emotional disaster. If now she went upstairs and told Peters not to pack——!
Sir Isaac walked slowly to the window, and stood for a time staring out into the garden.
Extraordinary bumpings began overhead in Sir Isaac’s room. No doubt somebody was packing something....
Lady Harman realized with a deepening humiliation that she dared not dispute before the servants, and that he could. “But the children——” she said at last.
“I’ve told Mrs. Harblow,” he said, over his shoulder. “Told her it was a bit of a surprise.” He turned, with a momentary lapse into something like humour. “You see,” he said, “it is a bit of a surprise.”
“But what are you going to do with this house?”
“Lock it all up for a bit.... I don’t see any sense in living where we aren’t happy. Perhaps down there we shall manage better....”
It emerged from the confusion of Lady Harman’s mind that perhaps she had better go to the nursery, and see how things were getting on there. Sir Isaac watched her departure with a slightly dubious eye, made little noises with his teeth for a time, and then went towards the telephone.