Sidney turned to Vashti. At that moment Mrs. Ranger, flushed and a little ruffled by her combat with Mabella, entered the hall.
“How d’ye do, Mr. Martin?” she said, holding out her hand. “We’d be right glad t’ see you if the time wasn’t so sad.”
“I am pleased to see you,” said Sidney, in his gentle genial way, shaking hands with her. She looked from his face to Vashti’s with an almost ridiculously eager scrutiny, but found herself baffled.
“You’d better go right in and see Mr. Didymus,” she said. “He’s bin askin’ for you.” At this juncture Mabella appeared, an adorably matronly Mabella.
“How are you, Sidney?” she asked. “Mrs. Ranger, I’m afraid your pies are burning or running over or something, I smelt them.”
“Laws,” said that good woman, disappearing like a shot. “Didn’t you have sense enuff to go to the oving instead o’ coming t’ me?”
“If you want to talk,” said Mabella coolly to Sidney and Vashti, “go into the sitting-room, and when she comes back I’ll tell her you’ve gone in to see Mr. Didymus.”
“You’re an angel,” said Sidney, and drew Vashti through the doorway just as Mrs. Ranger came back angrily.
“Them pies ain’t half cooked,” she said, “let alone burning!”
“Well, I’m sure I thought I smelt them,” said Mabella, “and I know you didn’t want to leave the pie-making for Temperance to do when she came this evening.”