concerning a bath-towel, once lost and now found.
As she hurried back to her work, Mrs Peel rustled through the hall.
âDarling, youâre doing too much. I can see it. Youâve no idea how over-strained you look, and itâs
most
unbecoming,â said Mrs Peel impressively. âI wish youâd have a look at these patterns and tell me what you think. Itâs for the new cretonne covers in my flat.â
They took the patterns to the window. Claudia looked at them carefully and without hurry. It was Mrs Peel who broke into their discussion a good many times in order to say that Claudia was toobusy to attend to it now, and that she had better get back to her desk, and why, oh why, wasnât she out in the fresh air giving herself a good rest?
âItâs all right, Mother,â said Claudia, fourteen times.
At last she was at work again, acutely aware of backache, eye-strain, and nervous exasperation. She was aware also, although much less consciously, of having lived up to her own ideal of a woman achieving, by sheer force of will, the next-to-impossible.
She heard the car drive up to the door, and as she worked she smiled.
It would be lovely for the children, by the sea.
Maurice came in and stood beside her, a worried, wistful expression on his small face.
âAre you just off, darling?â
âAs soon as the sandwiches are ready. Sylviaâs doing them. Have you got a
lot
to do, Mother?â
âNot so terribly much,â said Claudia cheerfully. âI shall be through by one oâclock, and this afternoon Iâll come down and bathe.â
âYou wonât be too tired?â
âOh no,â said Claudia lightly. âYou know Iâm hardly ever tired.â
Mauriceâs anxious look seemed to deepen, rather than relax, at this optimistic pronouncement.
âI wish you didnât have to work so very hard. It seems such a shame.â
âBut you know, Maurice, nearly everybody has to work. I donât mind it a bit, because itâs for all of you. If I can earn money it all helps to educate you and Taffy and Sylvia, and then when youâreolder youâll work for yourselves.â
âAnd for you,â said Maurice.
She kissed his little plain, freckled face.
âThank you, darling.â
The horn of the car was sounded vigorously from without.
âI suppose the girls are ready at last,â Maurice observed morosely. âI hope all your typing will get done quickly, and not be too difficult.â
He walked away very deliberately, still unsmiling.
It was Claudia who smiled, tenderly and proudly.
Ten minutes later the telephone-bell rang again.
She went to the door.
âAll right, dear!â called Mrs Peelâs voice, shrilly and nervously. âIâll see what it is. Hallo, hallo,
hallo
!â There was a pause, fraught with agitation, for Mrs Peel was neither calm nor collected when telephoning.
âClau-dia!â
âAll right, Mother.â
âNo, donât come, darling. No, itâs all right, I was only speaking to myâIâm afraid I canât hear you. I think thereâs something wrong with the telephoneâââ
âIâll take it, Mother.â
âItâs all right, dear. You go back to your writing. I think itâs someone who wants ⦠Would you please tell me whoâs speaking? I canât quite hear. Harvey, or Jarvey?â
âJarvey the butcher,â said Claudia. âGive it to me.â
âThe line is
very
bad to-day,â said Mrs Peelseverely. âIt might equally well have been Harvey.â
With an air of resentment, she handed the receiver to Claudia.
âYou know, darling, it isnât
right
that you should have to do this kind of thing on the top of all your other jobs. Youâre doing too much, and sooner or later youâll suffer for it. You may not think so now, but the day will come.â
These sentiments