It was that of Louise, in a dressing-gown and slippers, with a shawl wrapped about the upper part of her body.
'I heard you quarrelling,' she began.

(Her bedroom was immediately above, and at this silent hour the voices of the angry ladies had been quite audible to her as she lay in bed.) 'What _is_ it all about?
It's too bad of you, mother--' 'The idea, Louise, of coming down like that!' cried her parent indignantly.

'How did you know Mr.Mumford wasn't here?
For shame! Go up again this moment.' 'I don't see any harm if Mr.Mumford had been here,' replied the girl calmly.
'I'm sure it's most unwise of you to leave your bed,' began Emmeline, with anxious thought for Louise's health, due probably to her dread of having the girl in the house for an indefinite period.
'Oh, I've wrapped up.

I feel shaky, that's all, and I shall have to sit down.' She did so, on the nearest chair, with a little laugh at her strange feebleness.
'Now please _don't_ quarrel, you two.

Mrs.Mumford, don't mind anything that mother says.' Thereupon Louise's mother burst into a vehement exposition of the reasons of discord, beginning with the calumnious stories she had heard at Mrs.Jolliffe's, and ending with the outrageous arrogance of Mrs.Mumford's latest remark.