Breakfast was late. How could it be otherwise? Had not Mrs. Ogden sat in the bath for at least half an hour? There had been no hot water when at last Colonel Ogden got into the bath-room, and a kettle had had to be boiled. All this had taken time. Milly and Joan watched their mother apprehensively. Joan scented a breakdown in the near offing, for Mrs. Ogden's hands were trembling.
"Your father's breakfast, Joan; for heaven's sake ring the bell!"
Joan rang it. "The master's breakfast, Alice?"
"The kidneys aren't done."
"Why not, Alice?"
"There 'asn't been time!"
"Nonsense, make haste. The colonel will be down in a minute."
Alice banged the door, and Mrs. Ogden's eyes filled. Her courage had all run away with the bath water. She had been through hell, she told herself melodramatically; she had at last seen things as they were. Thump—thump and then thump—thump—that was James putting on his boots! Oh, where was the breakfast! Where were James's special dishes, the kidneys and the curried eggs; what was Alice doing? Thump—thump—there it was again! She clasped her hands in an agony.
"Joan, Joan, do go and see about breakfast."
"It's all right, Mother, here it is."