So for the first half-hour after dinner, Mrs Aldworth was quite happy. But for the next quarter of an hour she was not quite so calm. The sun had come round, and it was time to have the blind rearranged. It was also time for Nesta, who had been given explicit instructions by Marcia, to wheel her mother on to the balcony. Mrs Aldworth felt hot; she felt thirsty; she longed to have a drink of that cold water which was sparkling just beyond her reach. Even the penny paper was nowhere in sight; her fancy work had dropped to the floor, and she had lost her thimble. How annoying of naughty little Nesta—why, the child was already an hour late!
Mrs Aldworth managed in her very peevish way to ring her bell, which was, of course, within reach. The first ring was not attended to; she rang twice, with no better result. Then with her finger pressed on the electric button, with her face very red and her poor hand trembling, she kept up a continued peal until Susan opened the door.
Susan had been busy rushing backwards and forwards to the garden, putting everything in order for the advent of the Carters.
“I beg your pardon, ma’am,” she said. “I am sorry I kept you waiting; but isn’t Miss Nesta here?”
“No, she is not; why didn’t you answer my ring at once?”
“The young ladies, ma’am, are expecting one or two friends in the garden, and I was helping them. I thought, of course, Miss Nesta was with you.”
“She is not; I have been shamefully neglected. Tell Miss Nesta to come to me at once.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Before you go, Susan, please pull down that blind.”
“Yes, ma’am, of course. I am sorry—the room is much too ’ot. Whatever would Miss Marcia say?”