“No need for you to be so desperately funny!” snapped Julian, who detested Louis’ brand of facetiousness.  It was the word “propitious” that somehow annoyed him—­it had a sarcastic flavour, and it was “Louis all over.”

“No offence, old man!” Louis magnanimously soothed him.  “On the contrary, many happy returns of the day.”  In social intercourse the younger cousin’s good-humour and suavity were practically indestructible.

But Julian still scowled.

Rachel, to make a tactful diversion, rose and began to collect plates.  The meal was at an end, and for Mrs. Maldon it had closed in ignominy.  From her quarter of the table she pushed crockery towards Rachel with a gesture of disillusion; the courage to smile had been but momentary.  She felt old—­older than she had ever felt before.  The young generation presented themselves to her as almost completely enigmatic.  She admitted that they were foreign to her, that she could not comprehend them at all.  Each of the three at her table was entirely free and independent—­each could and did act according to his or her whim, and none could say them nay.  Such freedom seemed unreal.  They were children playing at life, and playing dangerously.  Hundreds of times, in conversation with her coevals, she had cheerfully protested against the banal complaint that the world had changed of late years.  But now she felt grievously that the world was different—­that it had indeed deteriorated since her young days.  She was fatigued by the modes of thought of these youngsters, as a nurse or mother is fatigued by too long a spell of the shrillness and the naivete of a family of infants.  She wanted repose....  Was it conceivable that when, with incontestable large-mindedness, she had given a case of pipes to Julian, he should first put a slight on her gift and then, brusquely leaving her in the lurch, announce his departure for South Africa, with as much calm as though South Africa were in the next street?...  And the other two were guilty in other ways, perhaps more subtly, of treason against forlorn old age.

And then Louis, in taking the slop-basin from her trembling fingers, to pass it to Rachel, gave her one of his adorable, candid, persuasive, sympathetic smiles.  And lo! she was enheartened once more.  And she remembered that dignity and kindliness had been the watchwords of her whole life, and that it would be shameful to relinquish the struggle for an ideal at the very threshold of the grave.  She began to find excuses for Julian.  The dear lad must have many business worries.  He was very young to be at the head of a manufacturing concern.  He had a remarkable brain—­worthy of the family.  Allowances must be made for him.  She must not be selfish....  And assuredly that serviette and ring would reappear on the morrow.

“I’ll take that out,” said Louis, indicating the tray which Rachel had drawn from concealment under the Chesterfield, and which was now loaded.  Mrs. Maldon employed an old and valued charwoman in the mornings.  Rachel accomplished all the rest of the housework herself, including cookery, and she accomplished it with the stylistic smartness of a self-respecting lady-help.