As she had foretold, laziness settled upon Paul.What he loved best was to sink into his old armchair in the dusty study and read old volumes of Temple Bar and the Cornhill.He had them piled at his side; he read article after article about such subjects as "The Silkworm Industry" and "Street Signs of the Eighteenth Century." He was very proud of his sermons, but now he seldom gave a new one.He always intended to."Don't let any one disturb me to-night, Maggie,"he would say at supper on Fridays."I've got my sermon." But on entering the study he remembered that there was an article in Temple Bar that he must finish.He also read the Church Times right through, including the advertisements.Grace gradually resumed her old functions.
She maintained, however, an elaborate pretence of leaving everything to Maggie.Especially was she delighted when Maggie forgot something.When that happened she said nothing; her mouth curled a little.She treated Maggie less and less to her garrulous confidences.They would sit for hours in the drawing-room together without exchanging a word.Maggie and Paul had now different bedrooms.Early in the autumn Maggie had a little note from Mr.
Magnus.It said:
"You have not written to any of us for months.Won't you come just for a night to see your aunts? At least let us know that you are happy."She cried that night in bed, squeezing her head into the pillow so that no one should hear her.She seemed to have lost all her pluck.
She must do something, but what? She did not know how to deal with people.If they were kind and friendly there were so many things that she could do, but this silent creeping away from her paralysed her.She remembered how she had said to Katherine: "No one can make me unhappy if I do not wish it to be." Now she did not dare to think how unhappy she was.She knew that they all thought her strange and odd, and she felt that strangeness creeping upon her.She MUST be odd if many people thought her so.She became terribly self-conscious, wondering whether her words and movements were strange.