Winnie shook hands with Bertram’s mother, ruffled and hot; but pointedly ignored Mrs. Cooper. She walked past her as though no one was in the way.
When they were in the street Bertram turned to her with pleading eyes.
“I’m so sorry this has happened, darling. I had no idea that awful person would be here. My mother’s the best creature in the world, but she’s had a very hard time, and, like many women of that age, is inclined sometimes to drink a little more than is good for her. My sister and I are trying to get her to become a teetotaller. And Mrs. Cooper leads her on. I’ve told her never to come to the house, but my mother doesn’t like to hurt her feelings. She made that horrible scene just to spite me, because you were here.”
“It doesn’t much matter, does it?” said Winnie, very wearily. “I’m not going to marry your relations.”
“You’re not angry with me, dearest?”
“Not at all,” said Winnie, forcing a smile to her lips. “Please get me a cab; I’ll drive home.”
“It’s too far, dearest; you must go by train. A cab would cost you a fortune.”
“Well, what does it matter?” she answered, irritably. “I can afford to pay for it.”
“I’m afraid there won’t be one here. You see, it’s so out of the world.”
“Must I walk all the way along those dreary roads to the station?”