CHAPTER X.
But for domestic warfare, Mrs.Mumbray would often have been at a loss how to spend her time.

The year of her husband's Mayoralty supplied, it is true, a good many unwonted distractions, but in the middle of the morning, and late in the evening (if there were no dinner-party), _ennui_ too frequently weighed upon her.

For relief in the former case, she could generally resort to a quarrel with Serena; in the latter, she preferred to wrangle with her spouse.
One morning early in December, having indulged her ill-humour with even more than usual freedom among the servants, she repaired to the smaller drawing-room, where, at this hour, her daughter often sat reading.
Serena was at a table, a French book and dictionary open before her.
After hovering for a few moments with eyes that gathered wrath, the Mayoress gave voice to her feelings.
"So you pay no attention to my wishes, Serena! I will not have you reading such books!" Her daughter rustled the dictionary, impassive.

Conscious of reduced authority, Mrs.Mumbray glared and breathed hard, her spacious bosom working like a troubled sea.
"Your behaviour astonishes me!--after what you heard Mr.Vialls say." "Mr.Vialls is an ignorant and foolish man," remarked Serena, without looking up.
Then did the mother's rage burst forth without restraint, eloquent, horrisonous.

As if to save her ears, Serena went to the piano and began to play.