‘But, my dear!’ expostulated Joseph. ‘In your position – you are the only married lady here, besides its being your home –’

‘I have never thought of Lexham as home, Joseph,’ said Maud matter-of-factly.

Joseph had given it up. Mathilda put the affair on another basis by saying that Maud, as doyenne, could not leave the rest of the party to cope with Mrs Dean. Maud said that she did not know what a doyenne was, but she had always made a point of non-interference at Lexham.

‘Darling Maud, this isn’t a case of interference! Who’s going to look after the woman? Show her to her room, and all that sort of thing?’

‘I expect Joseph will manage very well,’ said Maud placidly. ‘It occurred to me last night that I might have left my book in the morning-room, but when I looked today it wasn’t there. So tiresome!’

Mathilda too had given it up, and since, like Maud, she did not consider herself a hostess, she did not volunteer to deputise in the part.

So here was Maud, dressed for church, allowing Mrs Dean to clasp her unresponsive hand, and saying: ‘You see, I always go to church on Christmas Day.’

‘You mustn’t dream of letting me upset any of your plans! That I couldn’t bear!’ said Mrs Dean.

‘Oh no!’ replied Maud, taking this for granted.

‘I ought to apologise for thrusting myself upon you at such a time,’ pursued Mrs Dean. ‘But I know that you will understand a mother’s feelings, dear Mrs Herriard.’

‘I haven’t any children,’ Maud said. ‘I am sure no one minds your being here in the least. It is such a large house: there is always room.’

‘Ah!’ said Mrs Dean, struggling against the odds. ‘The joy of always having a room for a friend! How I envy you, living in such a beautiful place!’

‘I believe the house is generally very much admired,’ said Maud. ‘I do not care for old houses myself.’

There did not seem to be anything to say to this, so Mrs Dean tried a new form of attack. Lowering her voice, she said: ‘You must let me tell you how very, very deeply I feel for you in your tragic loss.’

The defences remained intact. ‘It has all been very shocking,’ said Maud, ‘but I never cared for my brother-in-law, so I do not feel much sense of loss.’

Joseph fidgeted uncomfortably, and darted an anguished look of appeal at Mathilda, who had by this time joined Maud. But it was Sturry, entering the hall from the back of the house, who came to the rescue. ‘The car, madam, is At the Door,’ he announced.

‘Oh!’ cried Mrs Dean. ‘I wonder what has happened to my car? There is just a suitcase in it, and my hat-box, and dressing-case. Could someone bring them in, do you think?’

‘The chauffeur, madam,’ replied Sturry, contemptuous of overdressed women who expected to see their luggage carried in at the front-door, ‘drove round to the Back Entrance. Walter has taken up the luggage to the Blue Room, sir,’ he added, addressing this last remark to Joseph.