Mr. Stokes sprang from his chair and, with clenched fists, stood angrily regarding the horrified Mr. Bell. He composed himself by an effort and resumed his seat.
“Anything else?” he inquired.
“Heaps and heaps of things,” said Mrs. Henshaw; “but I don't want to make bad blood between you.”
“Don't mind me,” said Mr. Stokes, glancing bale-fully over at his agitated friend. “P'raps I'll tell you some things about him some day.”
“It would be only fair,” said Mrs. Henshaw, quickly. “Tell me now; I don't mind Mr. Bell hearing; not a bit.”
Mr. Bell spoke up for himself. “I don't want to hear family secrets,” he whispered, with an imploring glance at the vindictive Mr. Stokes. “It wouldn't be right.”
“Well, I don't want to say things behind a man's back,” said the latter, recovering himself. “Let's wait till George comes in, and I'll say 'em before his face.”
Mrs. Henshaw, biting her lip with annoyance, argued with him, but in vain. Mr. Stokes was firm, and, with a glance at the clock, said that George would be in soon and he would wait till he came.
Conversation flagged despite the efforts of Mrs. Henshaw to draw Mr. Bell out on the subject of Ireland. At an early stage of the catechism he lost his voice entirely, and thereafter sat silent while Mrs. Henshaw discussed the most intimate affairs of her husband's family with Mr. Stokes. She was in the middle of an anecdote about her mother-in-law when Mr. Bell rose and, with some difficulty, intimated his desire to depart.
“What, without seeing George?” said Mrs. Henshaw. “He can't be long now, and I should like to see you together.”