They did not understand a single word of the very many in which
Francesca succeeded in clothing this simple information, but they
followed her, for it at least was clear that they were to follow, and
going down the stairs, and along the broad hall like the one above
except for glass doors at the end instead of a window opening into the
garden, they were shown into the dining-room; where, sitting at the
head of the table having her breakfast, was Mrs. Fisher.
This time they exclaimed. Even Mrs. Arbuthnot exclaimed, though
her exclamation was only "Oh."
Mrs. Wilkins exclaimed at greater length. "Why, but it's like
having the bread taken out of one's mouth!" exclaimed Mrs. Wilkins.
"How do you do," said Mrs. Fisher. "I can't get up because of my
stick." And she stretched out her hand across the table.
They advanced and shook it.
"We had no idea you were here," said Mrs. Arbuthnot.
"Yes," said Mrs. Fisher, resuming her breakfast. "Yes. I am
here." And with composure she removed the top of her egg.
"It's a great disappointment," said Mrs. Wilkins. "We had meant
to give you such a welcome."
This was the one, Mrs. Fisher remembered, briefly glancing at
her, who when she came to Prince of Wales Terrace said she had seen
Keats. She must be careful with this one--curb her from the beginning.
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