After The Funeral Part 35

"Oh no, Mr. Abernethie. I took it off very carefully, and

anyway I've brought up the little strainer in case it should

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form again. Some people like it, you know, they say it's the cream--and so it is really."

"Idiotsl" said Timothy. "What kind of biscuits are those ?"

"They're those nice digestive biscuits."

"Digestive tripe. Ginger-nuts are the only biscuits worth eating."

"I'm afraid the grocer hadn't got any this week. But these are really very nice. You try them and see."

"I know what they're like, thank you. Leave those curtains alone, can't you ?"

"I thought you might like a little suns.h.i.+ne. It's such a nice sunny day."

"I want the room kept dark. My head's terrible. It's this paint. I've always been sensitive to paint. It's poisoning Miss Gilchrist sniffed experimentally and said brightly: "One really can't smell it nmch in here. The workmen are over on the other side."

"You're not sensitive like I am. Must I have all the books I'm reading taken out of my reach ?"

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Abernethie, I didn't know you were reading all of them."

"Where's my wife ? I haven't seen her for over an hour." "Mrs. Abernethie's resting on the sofa." "Tell her to come and rest up here."

"I'll tell her, Mr. Abernethie. But she may have dropped off to sleep. Shall we say in about a quarter of an hour ?"

"No, tell her I want her now. Don't monkey about with that rug. It's arranged the way I like it."

"'I'm so sorry. I thought it was slipping off the far side."

"I like it slipping off. Go and get Maude. I want her."

Miss Gilchrist departed downstairs and tiptoed into the drawing-room where Maude Abernethie was sitting with her leg up reading a novel.

"I'm so sorry, Mrs. Abernethie," she said apologetically. "Mr. Abernethie is asking for you."

Maude thrust aside her novel with a guilt,y, expression. "Oh dear," she said, "I'll go up at once.

She reached for her stick.

Timothy burst out as soon as his wife entered the room: "So there you are at last I"

"I'm so sorry, dear, I didn't know you wanted me." "That woman you've got into the house will drive me mad.

120 '

Twittering and fluttering round like a demented hen. Real typical old maid, that's what she is."

"I'm sorry she annoys you. She tries to be kind, that's all." "I don't want anybody kind. I don't want a blasted old maid al,ways chirruping over me.

She's so d.a.m.ned arch, too

"Just a little, perhaps."

"Treats me as though I was a confounded kid! It's maddening."

"I'm sure it must be. But please, please, Timothy, do try not to be rude to her. I'm really very helpless still and you yourself say she cooks well."

"Her cooking's all right," Mr. Abernethie admitted grudgingly. "Yes, she's a decent enough cook. But keep her in the kitchen, that's all I ask. Don't let her come fussing round me."

"No, dear, of course not. How are you feeling ?"

"Not at all well. I think you'd better send for Barton to come and have a look at me. This paint affects my heart.

Feel my pulse--the irregular way it's beating." Maude felt it without comment.

"Timothy, shall we go to an hotel until the house painting is finished ?"

"It would be a great waste of money."

"Does that matter so much now ?"

"You're just like all women--hopelessly extravagant I Just because we've come into a ridiculously small part of my brother's estate, you think we can go and live indefinitely at the Ritz."

"I didn't quite say that, dear."

"I can tell you that the difference Richard's money will make will be hardly appreciable. This bloodsucking Government will see to that. You mark my words, the whole lot will go in taxation."

Mrs. Abernethie shook her head sadly.

"Ti is coffee's cold," said the invalid, looking with distaste at the cup which he had not as yet tasted. "Why can't I ever get a cup of really hot coffee ?"

"I'll take it down and warm it up."

In the kitchen Miss Gilchrist was drinking tea and conversing affably, though with slight condescension, with Mrs.

Jones.

"I'm so anxious to spare Mrs. Abernethie all I can," she said. "All this running up and down stairs is so painful for her."

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"Waits on him hand and foot, she does," said Mrs. Jones, stirring the sugar in her cup.

"It's very sad his being such an invalid."

"Not such an invalid either," Mrs. Jones said darkly.

"Suits him very well to lie up and ring bells and have trays brought up and down. But he's well able to get up and go about. Even seen him out in the village, I have, when she's been away. Walking as hearty as you please. Anything he really needs--like his tobacco or a stamp--he can come and get. And that's why when shwas off at that funeral and got held up on the way back, and h told me I'd got to come in and stay the night again, I refused. ' I'm sorry, sir,' I said, ' but I've got my husband to think of. Going out to oblige in the mornings is all very well, but I've got to be there to see to him when he comes back from work.' Nor I wouldn't budge, I wouldn't. Do him good, I thought, to get about the house and look after himself for once. Might make him see what a lot he gets done for him. So I stood firm, I did. He didn't half create."

Mrs. Jones drew a deep breath and took a long satisfying drink of sweet inky tea. "Ar," she said.

Though deeply suspicious of Miss Gilchrist, and considering her as a finicky thing and a "regular fussy old maid," Mrs.

Jones approved of the lavish way in which Miss Gilchrist

dispensed her employer's tea and sugar ration.

She set down the cup and said affably:

"I'll give the kitchen floor a nice scrub down and then I'll be getting along. The potatoes is all ready peeled, dear, you'll find them by the sink."

Though slightly affronted by the "dear," Miss Gilchrist was appreciative of the goodwill which had divested an enormous quant.i.ty oi potatoes of their outer coverings.

Before she could say anything the telephone rang and she hurried out in the hall to answer it. The telephone, in the style of fifty odd years ago, was situated inconveniently in a draughty pa.s.sage behind the staircase.

Maude Abernethie appeared at the top of the stairs while Miss Gilchrist was still speaking. The latter looked up and said:

"It's Mrs.--Leo--is it ?--Abernethie speaking."

"Tell her I'm just coming."

Maude descended the stairs slowly and painfully.

Miss Gilchrist murmured, "I'm so sorry you've had to come down again, Mrs. Abernethie. Has Mr. Abernethie finished his elevenses ? I'll just nip up and get the tray."

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She trotted up the stairs as Mrs. Abernethie said into the

receiver.

"Helen ? This is Maude here."

The invalid received Miss Gilchrist with a baleful glare. As

she picked up the tray he asked fretfully: "Who's that on the telephone ?"