By the time she reached home she could smile without effort, and even tell Matthew, whom she found dressing for dinner, that her mother would probably improve under Ellen’s handling and consent to an operation.
“Good.”
“If Ellen only stays. She wants to go back to Cecily.”
“Wonderful what loyalty Cecily does inspire, isn’t it?” said Matthew ruminatively.
“She probably pays Ellen well.”
At Matthew’s little laugh, which seemed so perfectly comprehending of all the jealousies in Fliss’s mind, she flushed angrily. For a moment she seemed about to say something, but she did not. It was Matthew who spoke.
“Not worthy of you, Fliss.”
“I know. It was stupid and jealous, but I get so tired of the eternal virtuousness of Cecily. Those with the servant mind may like it, but it bores me to death. She’s so always right.”
“She’s always so right,” corrected Matthew, teasingly.
“Have it your own way. I’d personally sooner be a cheerful sinner than such an unsmiling saint.” She turned at the door. “And if you ask me I think poor Dick feels that way sometimes too.”