They shared the fly as far as the Rodneys' house, and then Joan drove on
alone.
Mrs. Ogden opened the front door herself.
"She's gone!" were her words of greeting.
"Who has? You don't mean Ethel?"
Mrs. Ogden sank on to the rim of the elephant pad umbrella stand. "She
walked out this morning after the greatest impertinence. Of course I
refused to pay her. I'm worn out by all I've been through since you
left; I nearly telegraphed for you to come back."
"Wait a minute, Mother dear; I must get my trunk in. Yes, please,
cabby--upstairs, if you don't mind; the back room."
"She kept the kitchen filthy; I've been down there since she left and
the sink made me feel quite sick! I've thought for some time she was
dishonest and brought men in the evenings, and now I'm sure of it;
there's hardly a grain of coffee left and I can't find the pound of
bacon I bought only the day before yesterday."
"Oh! I do wish we hadn't lost her!" said Joan inconsequently. "Have you
been to the registry office?"
"No, of course not; what time have I had? You'll have to do that
to-morrow."
Joan went upstairs and began unstrapping her trunk. She did not attempt
to analyse her feelings; they were too confused and she was very tired.
She wanted to sit down and gloat over the past two weeks, to recapture
some of their fun and freedom and companionship; above all she did not
want to think of registry offices.