Sarah watched her smile at one relation and then another on her progress to the door. It was ridiculous, the way she behaved, as though she were a queen holding a court. Well, nobody was likely to bow down to Mary, unless one counted the villagers, who were said to make an absurd fuss of her.
Sarah hoped she had gone to see about tea. Really with Mary you never knew. She might just as easily have gone off to drive old Mrs. Simpkins in to the hospital, or to sit up all night with a sick cow. She would think nothing of leaving all her relations in the drawing-room, thirsting for tea. Poor John! Double heeled socks indeed!
The gong boomed through the house.
Chapter II
THE TOAST
Sarah felt more comfortable when tea was served and the family established round the table. The meal was correct according to the best Robson tradition. All the food was rich, substantial and self-satisfied. The roast chickens, plump and succulent, were flanked by a dignified ham of Anderby curing. The butter oozed from luscious golden tea-cakes. On the sideboard lay a second course of tarts and cheese-cakes with filmy pastry. Plates of spiced bread, black and sticky, surrounded the huge cake.
Under the influence of warmth and rich food Sarah's irritation disappeared. She allowed Violet to pass her plate for another helping of chicken. Violet's hands were hot and red, but Sarah had come prepared for imperfections, so that was easily ignored. It was harder to overlook John's forgetfulness when he carved for her a slice of breast. Ten years ago he would never have forgotten she preferred brown meat.
Across the table Ursula chatted with Toby Robson. "But, my dear man, it's ridiculously easy. I always drive myself. Foster prefers a Humber of course, but I think an American car so much lighter. Mary, don't you like my new two-seater best?"
"I really don't know anything about cars, Ursula. Ask Mr. Holmes, he knows far more than I, and I haven't seen your two-seater yet."