Thorold suppressed a forcible interjection as he groped under his chair for the ball. If ever he married, he determined that one of the first rules he would make for his wife's guidance would be that all wool-winding should be done by daylight.
Joanna had a tiresome habit of leaving a tangled skein for the comparative leisure of the evening hours. Thorold used to wonder sometimes if all her skeins were tangled. It got on his nerves sometimes and spoilt the enjoyment of his reading. Joanna's limp, nerveless movements, her jerky beginnings and abrupt endings, her brief spasms of energy, and the inevitable hunt for the unlucky ball, irritated him at times beyond endurance. It is quite ridiculous and almost derogatory to one's dignity to think how much daily life is marred by these small frets and torments. The buzzing of a bluebottle against the window-pane is certainly preferable to a brass band when the instruments are cracked, but the whizzing and fizzing of the insect may in time jar on the ear; and to thin-skinned people a midge's bite is fruitful of irritation.
Joanna was making up her mind slowly that her brother had given her good counsel, and that perhaps it would be well for her to follow it. Thorold was the master of the house, and if he wished to keep Joanna, of course the girl must stay. And when Joanna had arrived at this point, she broke the thread of her yarn again.
"I thought there was something you wanted to tell me, Thorold," she said, rather reproachfully, when she had found a new beginning. "I have brought my work and am ready to talk, but you do nothing but read." Then Thorold threw down his paper impatiently.
"I thought you were too busy with that work," he returned, rather curtly; "and, after all, it does not matter. It was only about my own business affairs."
"Oh, but I want to hear it," replied his sister, with much mild obstinacy. "It is seldom that you do care to talk to me, Thorold;" and here Joanna's voice was decidedly plaintive. "I sometimes think that if it were not for finding fault with Jemima I should almost lose the use of my voice."
Thorold was fast losing patience. Joanna was in one of her most trying moods; she was at once aggressive and despondent. She was at all times very tenacious of her sisterly privileges, and nothing offended her more than being kept in the dark. Well, he might as well get it over and be done with it; but he would be as brief as possible. "I only wanted to tell you that I have had a very satisfactory interview with Murdoch & Williams."
"Oh, indeed"—and here Joanna frowned anxiously over her skein. "They are solicitors, are they not?"
"Yes, but they are very big people. Joa, I think I am likely to get the brief. You see"—warming to his subject—"our last case was so satisfactory, and we got our client such heavy damages, that Murdoch & Williams were quite pleased. The junior partner made himself very pleasant, and said all kinds of civil things."
"And you think you will get it, Thorold?" and Joanna actually laid down her skein.