“Of course it is,” said Mrs Aldworth, whose emotions were like the weathercock, and changed instant by instant. “I quite sympathise with you, my darlings. You adore me, don’t you?”
“We live for you,” said Molly. “You are our first thought morning, noon, and night.”
“Then where is Ethel? Why doesn’t she come?”
“She has gone to the Carters to explain that we cannot possibly be present at the dance this evening.”
“Poor darling,” said Nesta, “she’ll have sunstroke on the way, her head was so bad.”
“Sunstroke?” said Mrs Aldworth, who was now seriously alarmed, “and the afternoon is so very hot. Why did you let her go out with a bad headache?”
“She had to go, mother,” said Nesta. “The Carters would be so offended.”
“Of course they would,” said Molly. “She simply had to go. But for Marcia it would have been all right.”
“Certainly that girl does bring discord and misery into the house,” said Mrs Aldworth.
“But she won’t long, mother; not when you manage her.”