But that terrible old lady had not done with her yet, and the worst was still to come.
No longer having any grievance against the blouse, Mrs.Moon was concentrating her attention on that more mysterious witness to Juliana's foolishness--the Cake.
"And now," said she, pointing as she might have pointed to a monument, "will you kindly tell me the meaning of this ?" "I expect--perhaps--it is very likely--that Dr.Cautley will come in to tea this afternoon." The Old Lady peered at Miss Quincey and her eyes were sharp as needles, needles that carried the thread of her thought pretty plainly too, but it was too fine a thread for Miss Quincey to see.

Besides she was looking at the cake and almost regretting that she had bought it, lest he should think that it was eating too many of such things that had made her ill.
"And what put that notion into your head, I should like to know ?" "He has written to say so." "Juliana--you don't mean to tell me that he invited himself ?" "Well, no.

That is--it was an answer to my invitation." "_Your_ invitation?
You were not content to have that man poking his nose in here at all hours of the day and night, but you must go out of your way to send him invitations ?" "Dr.Cautley has been most kind and attentive, and--I thought--it was time we paid him some little attention." "Attention indeed! I should be very sorry to let any young man suppose that I paid any attention to him.

I should have thought you'd have had a little more maidenly reserve.

Besides, you know perfectly well that I don't enjoy my tea unless we have it by ourselves." Oh yes, she knew; they had been having it that way for five-and-twenty years.
"As for that cake," continued the Old Lady, "it's ridiculous.