“Don’t you say ‘there, there,’ to me, Captain Barber, because I won’t have it,” said the old lady, speaking with great rapidity; “if you think that I’m going to sit here and be insulted by—by that woman, you’re mistaken.”
“You’re quite mistook, Mrs. Banks,” said the Captain, slowly. “I’ve heard everything she said, and, where the insult comes in, I’m sure I don’t know. I don’t think I’m wanting in common sense, ma’am.”
He patted the housekeeper’s hand kindly, and, in full view of the indignant Mrs. Banks, she squeezed his in return and gazed at him affectionately. There is nothing humourous to the ordinary person in a teacup, but Mrs. Banks, looking straight into hers, broke into a short, derisive laugh.
“Anything the matter, ma’am?” enquired Captain Barber, regarding her somewhat severely.
Mrs. Banks shook her head. “Only thoughts,” she said, mysteriously.
It is difficult for a man to object to his visitors finding amusement in their thoughts, or even to enquire too closely into the nature of them. Mrs. Banks, apparently realising this, laughed again with increased acridity, and finally became so very amused that she shook in her chair.
“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself, ma’am,” said Captain Barber, loftily.
With a view, perhaps, of giving his guest further amusement he patted the housekeeper’s hand again, whereupon Mrs. Banks’ laughter ceased, and she sat regarding Mrs. Church with a petrified stare, met by that lady with a glance of haughty disdain.
“S’pose we go into the garden a bit?” suggested Barber, uneasily. The two ladies had eyed each other for three minutes without blinking, and his own eyes were watering in sympathy.
Mrs. Banks, secretly glad of the interruption, made one or two vague remarks about going home, but after much persuasion, allowed him to lead her into the garden, the solemn Elizabeth bringing up in the rear with a hassock and a couple of cushions.