Mrs. Wragge's moon-face brightened dimly. The ineradicable female
instinct of Curiosity tried to sparkle in her faded blue eyes--flickered
piteously--and died out.
"How much luggage?" she asked, confidentially. "The captain's gone out.
Let's go and get it!"
"Mrs. Wragge!" cried a terrible voice at the door.
For the first time in Magdalen's experience, Mrs. Wragge was deaf to the
customary stimulant. She actually ventured on a feeble remonstrance in
the presence of her husband.
"Oh, do let her have her Things!" pleaded Mrs. Wragge. "Oh, poor soul,
do let her have her Things!"
The captain's inexorable forefinger pointed to a corner of the
room--dropped slowly as his wife retired before it--and suddenly stopped
at the region of her shoes.
"Do I hear a clapping on the floor!" exclaimed Captain Wragge, with an
expression of horror. "Yes; I do. Down at heel again! The left shoe
this time. Pull it up, Mrs. Wragge! pull it up!--The chaise will be here
to-morrow morning at nine o'clock," he continued, addressing Magdalen.
"We can't possibly venture on claiming your box. There is note-paper.
Write down a list of the necessaries you want. I will take it myself
to the shop, pay the bill for you, and bring back the parcel.
Pages:
365
366
367
368
369
370
371
372
373
374
375
376
377
378
379
380
381
382
383
384
385
386
387
388
389