All the relations eagerly accepted Sophia’s telephoned invitation; and Miss Tessitt, on being told that Sophia’s uncles and aunts were coming to tea on Saturday and having received a hint that therefore the cottage might look extra nice, seemed quite relieved and pleased.

‘Ay thought you was alone in the world like mayself,’ said Miss Tessitt. ‘That is to say, Ay have may married sister, but Ay do not count her. There are some people who are worse than no one, in a manner of speakin’. May sister was married very young. Mayself, I believe everyone ought to get married. It makes someone to talk to in the evenings.’

Sophia had paid the guinea to the agency in return for securing the services of Miss Tessitt, and she saw the guinea go with regret. Miss Tessitt was not slovenly, but she was extremely idle and, as she was never tired of explaining to Sophia, her bad health made it impossible for her to work quickly and hard. The result was that the cottage was kept clean, but not very clean; tidy, but not very tidy; and Miss Tessitt was constantly mentioning to Sophia tasks which she could no longer undertake because her feet, her head or blood prevented her. Sophia foresaw the day when Miss Tessitt would sit at home doing nothing at all and having fifteen shillings posted to her every week. She had what she called ‘may other people,’ which brought her in a further eighteen shillings, and upon this she lived; Sophia wondered if she did as little for may other people as she did for the cottage.

However, the cottage looked very nice on the Saturday afternoon of the tea party.

Sophia and Francis had hurried home from their work and eaten lunch at the Primrose Café in order not to disturb the shining purity of the cottage china and linen; and they were now anxiously cutting bread and butter and putting prawns into a green dish shaped like a vine leaf, and beautifying themselves.

At least, Francis was beautifying himself, but Sophia rather disturbed him by refusing to do anything of the sort.

‘Some people,’ said Sophia, emphatically slapping the cherry-wreathed cups on to the table, ‘have time to nim around painting their faces (which heaven knows could do with it because they have no more expression than an elephant’s behind) and spending hours fiddling over their clothes. Others would like to, but they have more important things to do. Don’t worry; Angela will provide all the girlish dew this afternoon. I shall just look as large and plain and cheesy as I can.’

‘Aunt Grace will say something about it.’

‘Let her. Look, this prawn smells a bit queer. I shall see that she gets it.’

‘Harry has all the luck, with his matinée.’

‘Nonsense, you know you enjoy upsetting the relatives. Don’t pose.’

Indeed, they were both rather looking forward to the party, because the cottage looked so comfortable and elegant, with its shining floor and shining silver cups and My Collection ranged fiercely round the walls, and Sophia’s vases of yellow flowers, and a little fire in the grate because the day was cool and rainy. They wanted to show all this glory off.