"Call me Louise," she whispered.
"Silly little thing! Shall I get you some water?"
"Call me Louise!"
"Louise!"
CHAPTER XIX
RACHEL AND MR. HORROCLEAVE
I
The next morning, Sunday, Rachel had a fancy to superintend in person
the boiling of Louis' breakfast egg. For a week past Louis had not
been having his usual breakfast, but on this morning the ideal
life was recommencing in loveliest perfection for Rachel. The usual
breakfast was to be resumed; and she remembered that in the past the
sacred egg had seldom, if ever, been done to a turn by Mrs. Tams. Mrs.
Tams, indeed, could not divide a minute into halves, and was apt
to regard a preference for a certain consistency in a boiled egg as
merely finicking and negligible. To Mrs. Tams a fresh egg was a fresh
egg, and there was no more to be said.
Rachel entered the kitchen like a radiance. She was dressed with
special care, rather too obviously so, in order that she might be
worthy to walk by Louis' side to church. She was going with him to
church gladly, because he had rented the pew and she desired to please
him by an alert gladness in subscribing to his wishes; it was not
enough for her just to do what he wanted.
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