But the Evelyns and Thorn and everybody else whom they knew left the Pool at last, before Charlton, who was sufficiently well again, had near run out his furlough; and then the cloud which had only shewed itself by turns during all those weeks gathered and settled determinately upon his brow.
He had long ago supplied the want of a newspaper. One evening in September the family were sitting in the room where they had had tea, for the benefit of the fire, when Barby pushed open the kitchen door and came in.
"Fleda will you let me have one of the last papers? I've a notion to look at it."
Fleda rose and went to rummaging in the cupboards.
"You can have it again in a little while," said Barby considerately.
The paper was found and Miss Elster went out with it.
"What an unendurable piece of ill-manners that woman is!" said Charlton.
"She has no idea of being ill-mannered, I assure you," said Fleda.
His voice was like a brewing storm--hers was so clear and soft that it made a lull in spite of him. But he began again.
"There is no necessity for submitting to impertinence. I never would do it."