“Indeed, madam,” and Mr. Mainprice sniffed with nervous satisfaction.
“The best item on the programme. Such a sweet contralto, and such musical feeling. I remember poor Mrs. Murchison used to sing some of the same songs. Of course she never had your daughter’s artistic instinct.”
Mr. Mainprice colored, and looked coy.
“The girl has had first-class lessons, Mrs. Steel. I believe in having the best of everything. I have been very fortunate, madam, and though I ought not to mention it, money is no consideration.”
The grocer straightened his back suddenly, with a mild snigger of self-salutation.
“Money well spent, Mr. Mainprice—”
“Is money invested, madam. Exactly. And a good education is an investment in these days.”
Two of the melancholy assistants were carrying the parcels to Mrs. Betty’s carriage. She rose with a rustle of silks, her rich fur jacket setting off her slim but sensuous figure. Mr. Mainprice dodged from behind the counter, and preceded her to the door.
“If it will be any convenience, Mrs. Steel, we can deliver the parcels immediately.”
“Thank you, I want to see the people myself. I like to keep in touch with the poor, Mr. Mainprice.”