"It was so late
when she got out this afternoon that I kept her--why, it was after
half-past four before she was dressed."
"I told her to be in for tea."
"Yes; but I felt sure you couldn't realize how late she was in getting
out," said Bob in a voice of honey.
"That was entirely her own mismanagement--" began the hard tones.
"Oh, no, Mrs. Rainham; really it wasn't," said Cecilia mildly. "Your
accompaniments, you remember--your dress--your music," she stopped,
in amazement at herself. It was rarely indeed that she answered any
accusation of her stepmother's. But to be on the mat at midnight, with
Bob in support, seemed to give her extraordinary courage.
"You see, Mrs. Rainham, there seems to have been quite a number of
little details that Cecilia couldn't mismanage," said Bob, following
up the advantage. It was happily evident that his stepmother's rage was
preventing her from speaking, and, as he remarked later, there was no
knowing when he would ever get such a chance again. "She really needed
rest. I'm sure you'll agree that every one is entitled to some free
time. Of course, you couldn't possibly have realized that it was a week
since she had been off duty."
"It's her business to do what I tell her," said Mrs. Rainham, finding
her voice, in an explosive fashion that made a passing policeman glance
up curiously. "She knew I had company, and expected her help.
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