Mother-in-law and daughter-in-law detested each other with an intensity
not common even in that relationship. How she ever killed time was a
mystery unknown. Mollie good-naturedly devoted a couple of her precious
daily hours to her. The house was as still as a tomb. Downstairs,
Messrs. Johnson and Wilson, Mr. Coachman, Mme. Cook and Mlle.
Chambermaid may have enjoyed themselves in one another's society, but
above the kitchen cabinet all was forlorn and forsaken.
"Awfully slow, all this!" said Miss Dane to herself, with a fearful
yawn. "I'll die of stagnation if this sort of thing keeps on. Mariana,
howling in the Moated Grange, must have felt a good deal as I do just at
present--a trifle worse, maybe, for I don't wish I were dead altogether.
The Tombs is gay and festive compared to Fifth Avenue on a rainy day. I
wish I were back playing Fanchon the Cricket, free and happy once more,
wearing spangles as Ophelia of Denmark, and a gilt paper crown as
Cleopatra of Egypt, I wasn't married then; and I didn't go moping
about, like an old hen with the distemper, every time it was wet and
nasty.
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