Mrs. Wickham, who had seated herself once more, struck her hands
violently together.

"Oh, it's absurd. It's a most unfair proposition. It will make _all_ the
difference to us. On that extra two hundred and fifty a year we could
keep a car."

"My dear, be thankful if we get anything at all," said her husband
solemnly. For a moment she stared at him aghast.

"Jim! Jim, you don't think---- Oh! that would be too horrible."

"Hush! Take care."

He crossed to the window as the door opened and Kate came in softly with
the tea things.

"How lucky it is that we had a fine day," he said, endeavoring to give
the impression that they had been talking with becoming sobriety of
light topics. He hoped his wife's raised voice had not been heard in the
passageway.

But Mrs. Wickham was beyond caring. Her toneless "Yes" in response to
his original observation betrayed her utter lack of interest in the
subject. But as Kate was still busy setting out the things on a small
table, he continued his efforts. Really, Dorothy should 'play up' more.

"It looks as if we were going to have a spell of fine weather."

"Yes."