'and afterwards perhaps she would like to see my flowers.' He
disappeared with extraordinary skill, with the strange effect of not
having left the room, yet Mrs. Batty sighed. Charles had wandered back
to the piano, and his mother, after compressing her lips and
whispering, 'It's a mania,' drew Henrietta into the depths of a
settee.

'Will he play to us?' she asked.

'No, no,' Mrs. Batty answered hastily. 'He's so particular. Why, if I
asked you to have another cup of tea, he'd shut the piano, and that
makes things very uncomfortable indeed. You can imagine. And John has
this new dog--really I don't think it's right on a Sunday. It's all
dogs and cricket with him. Well, cricket's better than football, for
really, on a Saturday in the winter I never know whether I shall see
him dead or alive. I do wish I'd had a girl.' She took Henrietta's
hand. 'And you, poor dear child, without a mother--what was it she
died of, my dear? Ah you'll miss her, you'll miss her! My own dear
mother died the day after I was married, and I said to Mr. Batty,
"This can bode no good." We had to come straight back from
Bournemouth, where we'd gone For our honeymoon, and by the time I was
out of black my trousseau was out of fashion. I must say Mr. Batty was
very good about it. It was her heart, what with excitement and all
that. She was a stout woman. All my side runs to stoutness, but Mr.
Batty's family are like hop-poles. Well, I believe it's healthier, and
I must say the boys take after him. Now I fancy you're rather like
Miss Rose.'

'They say I am just like my father.'