How extraordinary. There was no explosion. Everard hadn't--it seemed incredible--noticed. His attention was so much fixed on what she was doing with his cup, he was watching her so carefully lest she should fill it a hair's-breadth fuller than he liked, that all he said to Chesterton as she put the toast on the table was, 'Let this be a lesson to you.' But there was no gusto in it; it was quite mechanical. 'Yes sir,' said Chesterton. She waited. He waved. She went. The door hadn't been shut an instant before Wemyss exclaimed, 'Why, if that slovenly hussy hasn't forgotten----' And too much incensed to continue he stared at the tea-tray. 'What? What?' asked Lucy startled, also staring at the tea-tray. 'Why, the sugar.' 'Oh, I'll call her back--she's only just gone----' 'Sit down, Lucy.' 'But she's just outside----' 'Sit _down_, I tell you.' Lucy sat. Then she remembered that neither she nor Everard ever had sugar in their tea, so naturally there was no point in calling Chesterton back. 'Oh, of course,' she said, smiling nervously, for what with one thing and another she was feeling shattered, 'how stupid of me. We don't want sugar.' Wemyss said nothing. He was studying his watch, timing Chesterton. Then when the number of seconds needed to reach the kitchen had run out, he got up and rang the bell. In due course Lizzie appeared. It seemed that the rule was that this particular bell should be answered by Lizzie. 'Chesterton,' said Wemyss. In due course Chesterton appeared. She was less composed than when she brought back the teapot, than when she brought back the toast. She tried to hide it, but she was out of breath. 'Yes sir?' she said. Wemyss took no notice, and went on drinking his tea. Chesterton stood. After a period of silence Lucy thought that perhaps it was expected of her as mistress of the house to tell her about the sugar; but then as they neither of them wanted any.... After a further period of silence, during which she anxiously debated whether it was this that they were all waiting for, she thought that perhaps Everard hadn't heard the parlourmaid come in; so she said--she was ashamed to hear how timidly it came out--'Chesterton is here, Everard.' He took no notice, and went on eating bread and butter. After a further period of anxious inward debate she concluded that it must after all be expected of her, as mistress of the house, to talk of the sugar; and the sugar was to be talked of not because they needed it but on principle. But what a roundabout way; how fatiguing and difficult. Why didn't Everard say what he wanted, instead of leaving her to guess? 'I think----' she stammered, flushing, for she was now very timid indeed, 'you've forgotten the sugar, Chesterton.' 'Will you not interfere!' exclaimed Wemyss very loud, putting down his cup with a bang.