“Miss Molly, you must.”
“Go away, Susan. Clara, dear, I’m sorry that the day should be such a hot one, but you will it so refreshing in the summerhouse.”
“You have quite a nice garden,” said Clara, in a patronising voice, but Mabel turned and looked full at Molly.
“Did your servant say your mother wanted you?”
“Oh, there’s no hurry,” said Molly, who felt all her calm forsaking her, and crimson spots rising to her cheeks.
“Oh, do go, please,” said Clara. “Here’s Ethel; she will look after us. Oh, what good strawberries; I’m ever so thirsty! Run along, Molly, you must go if your mother wants you.”
“Of course you must,” said Jim.
“You must go at once, please,” said Clara. “Do go. I heard what the servant said, she was in quite a state, poor thing.”
Thus adjured Molly went away. It is true she kept her temper until she got out of sight of her guests; but once in the house her fury broke bounds. She was really scarcely accountable for her actions for a minute or two. Then she went upstairs and entered her mother’s room with anything but a soothing manner to the poor invalid.
“Is that you, Nesta?” said Mrs Aldworth, who from her position, on the sofa could not see who had entered the room.