Mrs Aldworth indulged in a nap; but now tea appeared and there was again bustle and movement, and when Mr Aldworth entered the room presently, he was so surprised at the improvement in his wife that he scarcely knew her.
“Marcia, you are a magician,” he said.
“You must uphold me with regard to the girls,” said Marcia.
“Of course, dear, you must uphold her. She has been explaining things to me,” said the wife. “She says that my children are exceedingly selfish.”
“I have always known that,” replied Mr Aldworth, looking at his daughter.
Mrs Aldworth began to frown. “I must say I think it is very unkind of you to say so; but of course you stick up for Marcia, and you abuse my poor children. That is always the way. I suppose just because Marcia’s mother thought herself a fine county lady and I—my people only in common trade, that—”
“Oh, hush, Amelia,” said her husband.
“Mother—dear mother!” said Marcia.
Mr Aldworth backed out of the room as quickly as he could. He met his son on the stairs.
“Don’t go in,” he said. “She’s as jealous as ever she can be. Like a bear with a sore head. The girls are all out enjoying themselves and Marcia is keeping guard. I must say that she makes an excellent nurse. I believe your mother will be ever so much better in a short time. She has her out on the balcony, prettily dressed, surrounded by coloured silks and all that sort of thing, and Marcia herself is looking like a picture.”