Rachel, standing near the door, could observe both Mrs. Maldon and Thomas Batchgrew, and was regarded by neither of them.  And while, in the convulsive commotion of her feelings, her sympathy for and admiration of Mrs. Maldon became poignant, she was thrilled by the most intense scorn and disgust for Thomas Batchgrew.  The chief reason for her abhorrence was the old man’s insensibility to the angelic submission, the touching fragility, the heavenly meekness and tranquillity, of Mrs. Maldon as she lay there helpless, victimized by a paralytic affliction. (Rachel wanted to forget utterly the souvenir of Mrs. Maldon’s paroxysm in the night, because it slurred the unmatched dignity of the aged creature.) Another reason was the mere fact that Mr. Batchgrew had insisted on leaving the money in the house.  Who but Mr. Batchgrew would have had the notion of saddling poor old Mrs. Maldon with the custody of a vast sum of money?  It was a shame; it was positively cruel!  Rachel was indignantly convinced that he alone ought to be made responsible for the money.  And lastly, she loathed and condemned him for the reason that he was so obviously unequal to the situation.  He could not handle it.  He was found out.  He was disproved, He did not know what to do.  He could only mouth, strut, bully, and make rude noises.  He could not even keep decently around him the cloak of self-importance.  He stood revealed to Mrs. Maldon and Rachel as he had sometimes stood revealed to his dead wife and to his elder children and to some of his confidential, faithful employees.  He was an offence in the delicacy of the bedroom.  If the rancour of Rachel’s judgment had been fierce enough to strike him to the floor, assuredly his years would not have saved him!  And yet Mrs. Maldon gazed at him with submissive and apologetic gentleness!  Foolish saint!  Fancy her (thought Rachel) hardening her heart to Julian!  Rachel longed to stiffen her with some backing of her own harsh common sense.  And her affection for Mrs. Maldon grew passionate and half maternal.

IV

Thomas Batchgrew was saying—­

“It beats me how anybody in their senses could pick up a serviette and put it way for a pile o’ bank-notes.”  He scowled.  “However, I’ll go and see Snow.  I’ll see what Snow says.  I’ll get him to come up with one of his best men—­Dickson, perhaps.”

“Thomas Batchgrew!” cried Mrs. Maldon with sudden disturbing febrile excitement.  “You’ll do no such thing.  I’ll have no police prying into this affair.  If you do that I shall just die right off.”

And her manner grew so imperious that Mr. Batchgrew was intimidated.

“But—­but—­”

“I’d sooner lose all the money!” said Mrs. Maldon, almost wildly.

She blushed.  And Rachel also felt herself to be blushing, and was not sure whether she knew why she was blushing.  An atmosphere of constraint and shame seemed to permeate the room.