Grace would be here in an hour! Strange how throughout all these last days Maggie had been looking forward to that event with dread.
There was no definite reason for fear; in London Grace had been kindness itself and had shown real affection for Maggie.Within the last week she had written two very affectionate letters.What was this, then, that hung and hovered? It was in the very air of the house and the garden and the place.Grace had left her mark upon everything and every one, even upon the meagre person of Mitch the dog.Especially upon Mitch, a miserable creeping fox-terrier with no spirits and a tendency to tremble all over when you called him.He had attached himself to Maggie, which was strange, because animals were not, as a rule, interested in her.Mitch followed her about, looking up at her with a yellow supplicating eye.She didn't like him and she would be glad when Grace collected him again--but why did he tremble?
She realised, in the way that she had of seeing further than her nose, that Grace was going to affect the whole of her relations with Paul, and, indeed, all her future life.She had not realised that in London.Grace had seemed harmless there and unimportant.Already here in Skeaton she seemed to stand for a whole scheme of life.
Maggie had moved and altered a good many of the things in the house.
She had discovered a small attic, and into this she had piled pell-mell a number of photographs, cheap reproductions, cushions, worsted mats, and china ornaments.She had done it gaily and with a sense of clearing the air.
Now as Grace's hour approached she was not so sure.
"Well, I'm not afraid," she reassured herself with her favourite defiance."She can't eat me.And it's my house."Paul had not noticed the alterations.He was always blind to his surroundings unless they were what he called "queer."There was the rattle of the cab-wheels on the drive and a moment later Grace was in the hall.
"Dear Paul--Maggie, dear..."
She stood there, a very solid and assured figure.She was square and thick and reminded Maggie to-day of Mrs.Noah; her clothes stood cut out around her as though they had been cut in wood.She had her large amiable smile, and the kiss that she gave Maggie was a wet, soft, and very friendly one.
"Now I think I'll have tea at once without taking my hat off.In Paul's study? That's nice...Maggie, dear, how are you? Such a journey! But astonishing! Just fancy! I got into Charing Cross and then--! Why! Here's the study! Fancy!...Maggie, dear, how are you? Well? That's right.Why, there's tea! That's right.Everything just as it was.Fancy!..." She took off her gloves, smiled, seated herself more comfortably, then began to look about the room.
Suddenly there came: "Why, Paul, where's the Emmanuel football group?"There was a moment's silence.Maggie felt her heart give a little bump, as it seemed to her, right against the roof of her mouth.Paul (so like him) had not noticed that the football group had vanished.
He stared at the blank place on the wall where it had once been.
