Buzza feebly.
"Revolt, I say! Leave him this very night! Oh! if I could--"
"If you please 'm," interrupted the page, throwing open the door,
"here's Mrs. Simpson, an' says she must see you partic'lar."
Mrs. Buzza had barely time to dry her eyes and set her bonnet
straight, before Mrs. Simpson rushed into the room. The new comer's
face was crimson, and her eyes sparkled.
"Oh! Mrs. Goodwyn-Sandys, I must--"
At this point she became aware of Mrs. Buzza, stopped abruptly, sank
into a chair, and began aimlessly to discuss the weather.
This was awkward; but the situation became still further strained
when Mrs. Pellow was announced, and bursting in with the same
eagerness, came to a dead halt with the same inconsequence.
Mrs. Saunders followed with white face and set teeth, and Mrs.
Ellicome-Payne in haste and tears.
"Pray come in," said their hostess blandly; "this is quite like a
mothers' meeting."
The reader has no doubt guessed aright. Though nobody present ever
afterwards breathed a word as to their reasons for calling thus at
"The Bower," and though the weather (which was serene and settled)
alone supplied conversation during their visit, the truth is that the
domestic relations of all these ladies had coincidently reached a
climax. It seems incredible; but by no other hypothesis can I
explain the facts.
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