Aunts Juley and Hester, rather hurt that their presents had not received special mention⁠—they forgot every year that James could not bear to receive presents, “throwing away their money on him,” as he always called it⁠—were “delighted”; it showed that James was in good spirits, and that was so important for him. And they began to wait for Winifred. She came at four, bringing Imogen, and Maud, just back from school, and “getting such a pretty girl, too,” so that it was extremely difficult to ask for news about Annette. Aunt Juley, however, summoned courage to enquire whether Winifred had heard anything, and if Soames was anxious.

“Uncle Soames is always anxious, Auntie,” interrupted Imogen; “he can’t be happy now he’s got it.”

The words struck familiarly on Aunt Juley’s ears. Ah! yes; that funny drawing of George’s, which had not been shown them! But what did Imogen mean? That her uncle always wanted more than he could have? It was not at all nice to think like that.

Imogen’s voice rose clear and clipped: