He paused, out of breath, looking at Sarah with pleading eyes. He really was sorry for her, as he was sorry for every one who could not see his point of view. He wanted to help her, to counteract by his eloquence opinions that were the deposit of generations. He was still young enough to believe habit to be amenable to reason.
Mary, horror-stricken, bent forward.
"Oh, Mr. Rossitur," she begged below her breath, "do stop, please."
Sarah saw the action, though she could not hear the words. She rose with dignity.
"Thank you, Mary," she said, "for this most unusual form of entertainment. If John is not coming back soon, I think I'll be getting home. Come, Tom."
Mary stood up, her hands full of linen sheets, her wide eyes troubled.
David saw that his conduct had in some way been disastrous. He came forward.
"Mrs. Bannister, I'm awfully sorry. I shouldn't have ranted at you like that. It was awfully bad manners. I had no right—only it's my chief thought night and day and it makes me forget myself. If you'd rather not stay in the same room as me after what I've said, I'll go. Mrs. Robson only took me in out of kindness because I had a cold——"
"It's quite unnecessary to apologize, young man. I assure you it makes no difference to me what you say or whether you stay or go. I'm sure my sister-in-law chooses her guests without reference to the feelings of her relations, and far be it from me to drive anyone away." She turned to Mary. "I only wanted to give John a message from Tobias Robson."
"Well, won't I do? Or won't you stay? John's sure not to be long."