"Maggie," said Aunt Anne, "has been very good.""And she's tired, I'm sure," continued the little lady, who must of course be Aunt Elizabeth."The journey was easy, dear.And you had no change.They gave you footwarmers, I hope.It's been lovely weather.I'm so glad to see you, dear.I've had no photograph of you since you were a baby."Aunt Elizabeth had a way, Maggie thought, of collecting a number of little disconnected statements as though she were working out a sum and hoped--but was not very certain--that she would achieve a successful answer."Add two and five and three and four..." The statements that she made were apparently worlds apart in interest and importance, but she hoped with good fortune to flash upon the boards a fine result.She was nervous, Maggie saw, and her thin shoulders were a little bent as though she expected some one from behind to strike her suddenly in the small of the back.
"She's afraid of something," thought Maggie.
Aunt Elizabeth had obviously not the strong character of her sister Anne.
"Thank you," said Maggie, looking, for no reason at all, at Mr.
Magnus, "I slept in the train, so I'm not tired." She stopped then, because there was nothing more to say.She felt that she ought to kiss her aunt; she thought she saw in her aunt's small rather watery eyes an appeal that she should do so.The distance, however, seemed infinite, and Maggie had a strange feeling that her bending down would break some spell, that the picture in the passage would fall with a ghostly clatter, that Edward the parrot would scream and shriek, that the gas would burst into a bubbling horror, that the big black cat would leap upon her and tear her with its claws.
"Well, I'm not afraid," she thought.And, as though she were defying the universe, she bent down and kissed her aunt.She fancied that this act of hers produced a little sigh of relief.Every one seemed to settle down.They all sat, and conversation was general.
Mr.Magnus had a rather melancholy, deprecating voice, but with some touch of irony too, as though he were used to being called a fool by his fellow-beings, but after all knew better than they did.He did not sound at all conceited; only amused with a little gentle melancholy at his own position.
"I'm glad to see you so well, Miss Cardinal," he said with an air of rather old-fashioned courtesy."I had been afraid that it might have exhausted you.I only came to welcome you.I must return at once.Ihave an article to finish before midnight."Aunt Anne smiled gently: "No, I'm not tired, thank you.And what has happened while I have been away?""I have been away too, as you know," said Mr.Magnus, "but Iunderstand that your sister has been very busy--quite a number--"Aunt Elizabeth said in her trembling voice: "No.No--Anne--I assure you.Nothing at all.As you know, the Bible Committee wanted to discuss the new scheme.Last Tuesday.Mr.Warlock, Mr.Simms, young Holliday, Miss Martin, Mary Hearst.And Sophie Dunn.AND Mr.Turner.
Nothing at all.It was a wet day.Last Tuesday afternoon.""Your mother is quite well, I hope, Mr.Warlock?" said Aunt Anne, turning to the young man."Yes--she's all right," he answered."Just the same.Amy wants you to go and see her.I was to give you the message, if you could manage to-morrow sometime; or she'd come here if it's more convenient.There's something important, she says, but I don't suppose it's important in the least.You know what she is."He spoke, laughing.His eyes wandered all round the room and suddenly settled on Maggie with a startled stare, as though she were the last person whom he had expected to find there.
"Yes.To-morrow afternoon, perhaps--about three, if that would suit her.How is Amy?""Oh, she's all right.As eager to run the world as ever--and she never will run it so long as she shows her cards as obviously as she does.I tell her so.But it's no good.She doesn't listen to me, you know."Aunt Anne, with the incomparable way that she had, brushed all this very gently aside.She simply said: "I'm glad that she's well." Then she turned to the other gentleman:
"Your writing's quite satisfactory, I hope, Mr.Magnus."She spoke as though it had been a cold or a toothache.
He smiled his melancholy ironical smile."I go on, you know, Miss Cardinal.After all, it's my bread and butter."Maggie, looking at him, knew that this was exactly the way that he did not regard it, and felt a sudden sympathy towards him with his thin hair, his large spectacles and his shabby clothes.But her look at him was the last thing of which she was properly conscious.The wall beyond the fireplace, that had seemed before to her dim and dark, now suddenly appeared to lurch forward, to bulge before her eyes; the floor with its old, rather shabby carpet rose on a slant as though it was rocked by an unsteady sea; worst of all, the large black cat swelled like a balloon, its whiskers distended like wire.
She knew that her eyes were burning, that her forehead was cold, and that she felt sick.She was hungry, and at the same time was conscious that she could eat nothing.Her only wish was to creep away and hide herself from every one.
However, through all her confusion she was aware of her determination not to betray to them that she was ill."If only the cat wouldn't grow so fast, I believe I could manage," was her desperate thought.There was a roaring in her ears; she caught suddenly from an infinite distance the voice of the stout young man--"She's ill! She's fainting!"
