"What, Betty, up already? I made sure you would like to lie in bed a bit and hurried down early on purpose."
"Hurried down, mother! Why, I've been up since half-past six, and just sent the children off to school."
"Dear me. Is it really so late? I made sure the clock struck eight only a few minutes ago."
"Half an hour, at least, mother," answers Betty, sharply.
"You're going by the kitchen clock—that's always wrong, you know."
"Everything is in this house, it seems to me," snaps Betty, and she carries father's breakfast into the sitting-room. Mother follows her.
"Where's your father? Why, you don't mean to say you've finished breakfast? Good gracious me, Betty, the idea of having the window open! What a shocking draught, enough to blow one away, and I've had the face-ache all this week. Shut it down directly!"
"It's a lovely fresh morning for this place, and air's better than anything. Grannie always has her windows open," answers Betty in quite a hard voice.
"Oh, I daresay; the country's different, and your Grannie is one of the strongest people I ever saw." And Mrs. Langdale glances nervously at the window.
"But, mother, the room was horribly stuffy, and Grannie says——"