"Without those dreadful creatures," she said quite aloud, and then she gave her fancy wing and planned a course of papering, painting, and white-washing after their departure, as she might have done had fever or cholera taken up its abode for a time in the house.
Which was perhaps ungrateful in Mrs. Mortomley, seeing the obnoxious visitors had tried to respect her feelings in every possible manner—kept themselves as much out of sight as possible—smoked their pipes so as to give the smallest amount of annoyance—offered such assistance as their physical and mental habits of laziness rendered available when Cook and Jane departed, and said to each other, they had never seen a "house go on so regular under similar circumstances as Homewood, nor a lady who took it all so quiet as the mistress of that establishment."
And this was true. No one connected with Homewood "took it so quiet" as Mrs. Mortomley.
I have a fancy that on those who turn the bravest and brightest face to misfortune, the evil presence leaves the most permanent marks of its passage. I think oftentimes while the face wreathes itself with smiles, the cruel foot-prints are impressing themselves on the heart.
Whether this be so or not, it is quite certain that although Dolly never once, never showed through all that weary campaign a sign of the white feather, the whole thing was to her as the single drop torture.
It wore in upon her nature, it made a deep rugged channel through her soul. And she was powerless to act. When Mortomley consented at Mr. Forde's bidding to "go on" after he himself had decided to stop, when Dolly consented that Mr. Benning should step into the shoes of their own solicitor, they virtually threw up their cards and gave the game to their adversaries.
Not less did Samson, when he confided to the keeping of a woman the secret of his strength, dream of the dungeon and the tormentors than did Mortomley and his wife, when they so blindly surrendered their future, dream of the misery and poverty in store.
And yet Dolly had a prevision that evil must ensue. Well, not even the gift of second sight can avert a man's doom when the hour draws near, but it may help him to meet it bravely.
Mrs. Mortomley herself often thought that vague dread and uneasiness which oppressed her when all things seemed going as they wished, prepared her in some sort for the future she was called upon to encounter.
Could she have been present at an interview which a couple of hours later took place in Mr. Kleinwort's offices she would have faintly comprehended how he and his friends wished to liquidate Mortomley's estate.