‘Mr Blount would give a very good price…’

Mrs Graham was pottering in the garden when Althea came up the road. It was a warm sunny day, and other people besides Mr Martin stopped and looked over the hedge to admire the begonias. Mrs Graham had a pleasant feeling that the admiration did not stop at the flowers. A garden was the most attractive setting a woman could have. Her hair was hardly grey at all, and she had kept her complexion and her figure. She had a picture of herself, graceful and fragile amongst her flowers.

She came into the house with Althea and told her about the people who had passed and what they had said.

‘And the Harrisons and Mr Snead will be coming in to bridge. Well, you must make a cake and some of those nice light scones. It really was very pleasant in the garden. Did you get that Sungleam stuff? Now I wonder would there be time to get my hair washed and set? It would have to be before lunch, because of my rest in the afternoon.’

‘Mother, I’ve got to cook the lunch. Of course if you could manage it yourself…’

There was a pause, after which Mrs Graham said gently,

‘You are sometimes a little thoughtless, dear. Do you think it is kind to remind me that I am a burden to you?’

‘No, Mother…’

Mrs Graham smiled bravely.

‘It’s all right, darling – I don’t want to complain. It’s just – Mrs. Harrison is always so well turned out, and it would have been rather nice. I’m really longing to try the Sungleam, but of course, as you say, there’s lunch.’ She broke into a sudden smile. ‘No, darling, I’ve had an idea. You’ve been rather a long time this morning, but we can manage if we are quick.