Mrs.Mutimer would have given much to be allowed to sit in the kitchen; she had a room of her own upstairs, but there she felt too remote from the centre of domestic operations, and the dining-room was a compromise.

Her chair was always placed in a rather dusky corner; she generally had sewing on her lap, but the consciousness that her needle was not really in demand, and that she might just as well have sat idle, troubled her habits of mind.

She often had the face of one growing prematurely aged.
'I hope you won't let them bring anyone they like,' Richard said to her.
'I've sent that fellow about his business; he's here for no good.

He mustn't come again.' 'They won't heed me,' replied Mrs.Mutimer, using the tone of little interest with which she was accustomed to speak of details of the new order.
'Well, then, they've _got_ to heed you, and I'll have that understood .-- Why didn't 'Arry go to work to-day ?' 'Didn't want to, I s'pose.' 'Has he stayed at home often lately ?' 'Not at 'ome, but I expect he doesn't always go to work.' 'Will you go and sit with Alice in the front room?
I'll have a talk with him.' 'Arry came whistling at the summons.

There was a nasty look on his face, the look which in his character corresponded to Richard's resoluteness.
His brother eyed him.
'Look here, 'Arry,' the elder began, 'I want this explaining.