But soon she had been forced to command her thoughts, and to listen,
with an outward air of calmness and interest, to this detailed account
of the poor old lady's last hours.
With unconscious gusto, Howse again took up the sad tale, while the maid
stood by, with reddened eyelids, ready to echo and to supplement his
narrative.
"Perhaps Mrs. Guthrie was not quite as well as she seemed to be, ma'am,
for she wouldn't take any dessert, and after she had finished her dinner
she didn't seem to want to sit up for a while, as she sometimes did.
When she became so infirm, a matter of two years ago, the Major arranged
that his study should be turned into a bedroom for her, ma'am, so we
wheeled her in there after dinner."
After a pause, he went on with an added touch of gloom: "She gazed her
last upon the dining-room, and on this 'ere little room, which was, so
to speak, ma'am, her favourite sitting-room. Isn't that so, Ponting?"
The maid nodded, and Howse said sadly: "Ponting will now tell you what
happened after that, ma'am."
Ponting waited a moment, and then began: "My mistress didn't seem
inclined to go to bed at once, so I settled her down nicely and
comfortably with her reading-lamp and a copy of _The World_ newspaper.
She found the papers very dull lately, poor old lady, for you see,
ma'am, there was nothing in them but things about the war, and she
didn't much care for that. But she can't have been reading more than
five minutes when there came the telegram."
Howse held up his hand, for it was here that he again came on the scene.
"The minute the messenger boy handed me the envelope," he exclaimed, "I
says to myself, 'That's bad news--bad news of the Major!' I sorely felt
tempted to open it. But there! I knew if I did so it would anger Mrs.
Guthrie. She was a lady, ma'am, who always knew her own mind. It wasn't
even addressed 'Guthrie,' you see, but 'Mrs. Guthrie,' as plain as plain
could be. The boy 'ad brought it to the front door, and as we was having
our supper I didn't want to disturb Ponting. So I just walked along to
Mrs. Guthrie's bedroom, and knocked. She calls out, 'Come in!' And I
answers, 'There's a telegram for you, ma'am. Would you like me to send
Ponting in with it?' And she calls out, 'No, Howse. Bring it in
yourself.'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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