I think--for that
is Angela's way--that he means much more to her dead than he did
living--and this, she says, has blackened the image."
"But even then it seems incomprehensible that it should have made her
really so ill."
"Oh, you don't know her yet, Jonathan. I remember your uncle used to say
that she was more like a flower than a woman, and he was always starting
alarms about her health. We lived in a continual panic about her for
several years, and it was her weakness, as much as her beauty, that gave
her her tremendous power over him. He was like wax in her hands, though
of course he never suspected it."
The tread of Mr. Mullen was heard softly on the staircase, and he
entered with his hand outstretched from the starched cuff that showed
beneath the sleeve of his black broadcloth coat. Pausing on the rug, he
glanced from Kesiah to Jonathan with a grave and capable look, as
though he wished them to understand that, having settled everything
with perfect satisfaction in the mind of Mrs. Gay, he was now ready to
perform a similar office for the rest of the household.
"I am thankful to say that I left your dear mother resting peacefully,"
he observed in a whisper.
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