“Why has she broken the coffee-pot?” asked Clare.
“She was most insolent,” said Mrs. Heywood, “and said my interference got on her nerves.”
“Well, even a servant has nerves,” said Clare.
“But it was the best coffee-pot, Clare. Surely you are not going to take it so calmly?”
“Like mistress like maid!” said Herbert. “Oh, my hat! Why on earth did I marry?”
“Don’t you think you had better fetch the whisky?” said Clare gently.
Herbert became excited again.
“I have been trying to fetch the whisky for the last half hour. There is a conspiracy against it. Confound it, I will fetch the whisky.”
He strode to the door, as though he would get the whisky or die in the attempt.
“I think you ought to speak to Mollie first,” said Mrs. Heywood.