Catty's eyes twinkled through the banisters. She caught Mary coming
downstairs and whispered that there was cold boiled chicken and trifle
for supper, because of Aunt Lavvy.
Through the door Mary could see her father standing at the table, and the
calm breasts of the cold chicken smoothed with white sauce and decorated
with beetroot stars.
There was a book beside Papa's plate, the book Aunt Lavvy had been
reading. She had left it open on the drawing-room table when she went to
church. She was late for supper and they sat there waiting for her. She
came in, slowly as usual, and looking at the supper things as though they
were not there. When she caught sight of the book something went up and
flickered in her eyes--a sort of triumph.
You couldn't help thinking that she had left it lying about on purpose,
so that Papa should see it.
He stood waiting till she had sat down. He handed the book to her. His
eyes gleamed.
"When you come here," he said, "you will be good enough to leave James
Martineau behind you."
Mamma looked up, startled. "You don't mean to say you've brought that
man's books into the house?"
"You can see for yourself, Caroline," said Aunt Lavvy.
"I don't want to see. No, Mary, it has nothing to do with you."
Mamma was smiling nervously. You would have supposed that she thought
James Martineau funny, but the least bit improper.
"But look, Mamma, it's his _Endeavours After the Christian Life_."
Her mother took up the book and put it down as if it had bitten her.
"Christian Life, indeed! What right has James Martineau to call himself a
Christian? When he denies Christ--the Lord who bought him! And makes no
secret of it. How can you respect an infidel who uses Christ's name to
cover up his blasphemy?"
Aunt Lavvy was smiling now.
"I thought you said he made no secret of it?"