Mr. Wycherly let go of the table, which he had seized nervously, and advanced to shake her outstretched hand. Montagu pulled out a chair for her.
"Pray be seated," said Mr. Wycherly. "It is most kind of you to call.... These are my wards."
The lady took the proffered chair and shook hands with the boys, who still looked dubious, although Edmund was distinctly attracted.
On Mr. Wycherly's gentle, scholarly face bewilderment struggled to break through the mask of polite interest through which he regarded his visitor.
"You've only just come, haven't you?" she asked.
"We've been living in the house for three days, but we are far from being properly established; our servant has not arrived yet...."
"And we keep on finding out things we haven't got," Edmund interpolated.
"We hope to be a little more settled before term begins," Mr. Wycherly continued, ignoring Edmund.
"Have you been able to get everything you want?" asked the lady. "Should you need any information about the best shops ... or the people who do things ..."
"Ask about blinds!" whispered the irrepressible Edmund.