once.
This sort of thing is simply frightful for your neuralgia. I'll come to you
in one moment."

And Mrs. Moze meekly obeyed; she had gone even before Audrey had had time
to light her candle. Audrey was very content in thus being able to control
her mother and order everything for the best. She guessed that the old lady
had got some idea into her head about the property, or about her own will,
or about the solicitor, or about a tombstone, and that it was worrying her.
She and Miss Ingate (who had now returned home) had had a very extensive
palaver, in low voices that never ceased, after the triumphant departure of
Mr. Foulger. Audrey had cautiously protested; she was afraid her mother
would be fatigued, and she saw no reason why her mother should be
acquainted with all the details of a complex matter; but the gossiping
habit of a quarter of a century was too powerful for Audrey.

In the large parental bedroom the only light was Audrey's candle. Mrs. Moze
was lying on the right half of the great bed, where she had always lain.
She might have lain luxuriously in the middle, with vast spaces at either
hand, but again habit was too powerful.

The girl, all in white, held the candle higher, and the shadows everywhere
shrunk in unison. Mrs. Moze blinked.

"Put the candle on the night-table," said Mrs. Moze curtly.

Audrey did so. The bedroom, for her, was full of the souvenirs of parental
authority. Her first recollections were those of awe in regard to the
bedroom. And when she thought that on that bed she had been born, she had a
very queer sensation.

"I've decided," said Mrs. Moze, lying on her back, and looking up at the
ceiling, "I've decided that your father's wishes must be obeyed."

"What about, mother?"

"About those shares going to the National Reformation Society. He meant
them to go, and they must go to the Society. I've thought it well over and
I've quite decided. I didn't tell Miss Ingate, as it doesn't concern her.
But I felt I must tell you at once."

"Mother!" cried Audrey. "Have you taken leave of your senses?" She
shivered; the room was very cold, and as she shivered her image in the
mirror of the wardrobe shivered, and also her shadow that climbed up the
wall and bent at right-angles at the cornice till it reached the middle of
the ceiling.

Mrs. Moze replied obstinately:

"I've not taken leave of my senses, and I'll thank you to remember that I'm
your mother. I have always carried out you