"
She secured her mare as he said, "Well, come in. It's rather amusing,
Leila. Sit down. I've had James Penhallow here to say his wife's breaking
down. I've had Mrs. Penhallow here to say James Penhallow is ill. Except
the maids and the cats and you, all Grey Pine is diagnosing one another.
And now, you come! Don't tell me you're ill--I won't have it."
"Please don't joke, Doctor. I am troubled about these dear people. I
talked to Mr. Rivers about it, and he is troubled and says it is the
mills and money. I know that, but at the bottom of it all is the war. Now
Aunt Ann is reading the papers again--I think it is very strange; it's
confusing, Doctor."
"Here," reflected the doctor, "is at least one person with some sense."
She went on, speaking slowly, "Uncle Jim comes home tired. Aunt Ann eats
her dinner and reads, and is in bed by nine. The house is as melancholy
as--I feel as if I were in a mousetrap--"
"Why mouse-trap, my dear?"
"It sounds all right. The mouse is waiting for something awful to
happen--and so am I. Uncle Jim talked of asking people to stay with us.
It's just to please Aunt Ann. She said, 'No, James, I don't want any
one.' He wished to please her. She really thinks of nothing but the war
and Uncle Jim, and when Uncle Jim is away she will spend an hour alone
over his maps.
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