It might have been inferred that the hostess had also been brought to
an end, to judge from her closed eyes and clasped hands, and the
effort with which she inhaled her breath and the violence with which
she exhaled it. The maid, clearing away the tea things, viewed her
with apprehension.
"Excuse me, ma'm, but will you be havin' the hot-water bag?" she asked
when she could endure the strain no longer.
Mrs. Ivy opened one reluctant eye and condescended to recall her
spirit to the material world.
"Norah, how could you?" she asked plaintively. "Haven't I begged you
never to disturb my meditation?"
"Yis, ma'm, but this, you might say, was worse than usual. Me mother's
twin sister died of the asthmy."
"Never speak to me when you see me entering into the silence. I was
denying fatigue; now I shall have to begin all over!"
It was evidently difficult for Mrs. Ivy to again tranquilize her
spirit. Her eyes roved fondly about the room, resting first upon one
cherished object then upon another. Autographed photographs lined the
walls, autographed volumes littered the tables. Above her head two
small bronze censers sent wreaths of incense curling about a vast
testimonial, acknowledging her valiant service in behalf of the anti-
tobacco crusade.
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