“I don’t know whether we can afford to take it at all,” Mrs. Price continued. “It is only people who have made money in the war that can do that sort of thing now. Of course Mr. Price actually lost more than he made, and with the income tax and everything his idea was really to give up and go into the country. Aldwych would need a great deal of keeping up.”
“Would it?” said Susie. “I daresay. But you would find the life so delightful, wouldn’t you? I think the unrest in a big town is so trying, and the unemployment makes it so much worse.” Mrs. Gainsborough was sitting on a sofa at her left hand, talking to a clergyman’s wife, and there was a sudden silence as Susie spoke. The young Prices had gone into the little room beyond to discuss some theatricals they were getting up for a charity.
“Why does the Principal allow Mr. Cranston to go on as he does?” Mrs. Price asked, turning to Mrs. Gainsborough.
“He doesn’t,” she replied distractedly. “It drives him nearly wild, but he can’t do anything.”
“He is making it much harder for everybody,” said Mrs. Abel, the clergyman’s wife. “My husband says he is doing incalculable harm in our neighbourhood. They are not the very poorest people there and they all have time to read and they are great orators—”
“Mrs. Carpenter and Mrs. Vachell,” the maid announced.
“Ah, this is delightful!” Mrs. Carpenter exclaimed, advancing first and shaking hands with everybody. “You are so wise to go on keeping to one day,” she said to Mrs. Price. “It is almost the only way of seeing one’s friends. I should love it if I had nothing to do, but if I tried to keep an afternoon to myself someone would be sure to call a special meeting somewhere and I should have to go off. And how is your dear girl? (To Susie.) Wrapped up in hubby and the baby, I suppose. I hope he is not getting his teeth too soon; it is such a pity when they do; they only decay earlier. And how is Emma? (To Mrs. Gainsborough.) I meet her here, there and everywhere. I think she does too much. She has not been accustomed to so much drudgery as an old soldier’s daughter like me. Papa used to hear us our Greek Testament every morning at half-past six. You know those were the good old days at Universities! He never gave it up even when he went to India. Then we had our classes and our riding-master and the old drill-sergeant, and my mother used to take us round among the wives and tell them what to do with their babies. Girls haven’t the same strength now. I make Baba lie down for an hour every day after lunch while I write letters, and I am sure Emma ought to do the same. And how is your parish, Mrs. Abel?” She settled down at last to one victim and let the others go.
Presently they heard men’s voices in the hall, some heavy stumbling upstairs and a door shut. Mrs. Price listened, hesitated and rang the bell. “Has anything happened, Gregory?” she asked the maid.
“Mr. Joseph, ma’am, brought home a young man who got knocked down by the car. He wished you not to be troubled as there is nothing serious and he is expected to be all right in a few minutes. Mr. Varens is with him in Mr. Price’s study.”
“I had better go and see what is the matter,” said Mrs. Price. “Don’t disturb yourselves; I shall be back in a minute.” She was gone nearly a quarter-of-an-hour, but her guests waited on. Mrs. Carpenter and Mrs. Vachell had begun an animated conversation on strikes and Susie was listening. When Mrs. Price came back she looked quite scared.