"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 guilty, 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'm so sorry, dear, I didn't know you wanted me."

"That woman you've got into the house will drive me mad. 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 always chirruping over me. She's so damned 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! 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.

"This 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."