"Cream and sugar?" said Mrs. Hill nervously.
"Yes, thank you," said Joanna. She felt a little disconcerted by this new household of which she found herself a member. She wondered what Bertie's mother and sister thought of his middle-aged bride.
For a time they all sat round in silence. Joanna covertly surveyed the drawing-room. It was not unlike the parlour at Ansdore, but everything looked cheaper—they couldn't have given more than ten pound for their carpet, and she knew those fire-irons—six and eleven-three the set at the ironmongers. These valuations helped to restore her self-confidence and support the inspection which Agatha was conducting on her side. "Reckon the price of my clothes ud buy everything in this room," she thought to herself.
"Did you have a comfortable journey, Miss Godden?" asked Mrs. Hill.
"You needn't call her Miss Godden, ma," said Albert, "she's going to be one of the family."
"I had a fine journey," said Joanna, drowning Mrs. Hill's apologetic twitter, "the train came the whole of sixty miles with only one stop."
Agatha giggled, and Bertie stabbed her with a furious glance.
"Did you make this tea?" he asked.
"No—She made it."
"I might have thought as much. That girl can't make tea any better than the cat. You reelly might make it yourself when we have visitors."