incapacitated, fetch shawls. At all times she would say 'Yes, dear' or
'As you wish, Edward.' With all this before her, what did she want with
personality and points of view? Obviously nothing. If she brought all
the grandchildren safely into the world, with their due complement of
legs and arms and noses, she would be a satisfactory asset. But Mrs.
Marston forgot, in this summing up, to find out whether Hazel cared for
Edward more than she cared for freedom.

Mrs. Marston came down to breakfast with an air of resignation.

'I have decided to make the best of it, my dear Edward,' she said; 'of
course, I had hoped there would never be anyone. But it doesn't
signify. I will lay out the money and be as good a grandmother as I
can. And now, dear' (she spoke passively, shifting the responsibility
on to Edward's shoulders)--'and now, how will you get me to town?'

Here was a problem. The little country station was several miles away,
far beyond her walking limit, and no farmer in the neighbourhood had a
horse quiet enough to please her.

'In my day, dear, I can remember horses so quiet, so well-bred, so
beautifully trained, and, above all, so fat, that an accident was,
apart from God's will, impossible. Now, my dear father, in the days
when he travelled for Jeremy's green tea (and very good tea it was, and
a very fine flavour, and a picture of a black man on every canister).
Where was I? Oh yes; he always used to allow a day for a ten-mile
round. Very pleasant it was, but the horses are not--'

Here Edward cut in with a suggestion.