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small shabby objects. They rushed frantically, silently, poker-faced. Mrs. Grail perched on the edge of Mrs. Stackpole’s fat-armed sofa and murmured to me insidiously. “This is the second trip. And the telephone men. Ah, you’re too soft with them. I shouldn’t allow it.”
    â€œMrs. Stackpole told me—one afternoon to bring in a few things,” I replied, working myself into a rage. “She didn’t say anything about the telephone men. And
two
afternoons.”
    â€œAnd all the money,” Mrs. Grail said. “And the washing machine. And them twisty rags. And no sheets to your bed. Ah God, it’s the English, they’ll do you every time.”
    Miss Pip and her friend came downstairs, still looking upset, and stood facing us near the tiny entrance hall. We all rose. “Thank you very much,” Miss Pip said, staring into my eyes with an expression of disbelief. “We’ve finished.”
    â€œFine,” I said. She continued to stand before the hall entrance, not moving.
    â€˜The decorator,” she said, “the man who is making my curtains for the windows in the apartment upstairs … He is supposed to meet us here.”
    There was a long pause.
    â€œI told him to be here at two,” Miss Pip said.
    â€œIt’s a quarter after now,” I said.
    â€œI know,” she responded. “He’s late.”
    â€œWe have to go out,” I said.
    â€œHe has to measure the windows,” she said.
    I felt Mrs. Grail’s eyes boring into the back of my neck.
    â€œLook,” I said. “This is really ridiculous. Mrs. Stackpole told me you would come in one afternoon to bring in a few things, but the telephone men have been here about four times, waking us up and tracking dirt, and now you’ve come
twice
and you make appointments with people … I know it’s not your fault.” I added, “Mrs. Stackpole misled me, but we are paying quite a lot of rent, and it’s our home for the summer, and I do think this is ridiculous.”
    â€œI can see you’re very angry,” Miss Pip said.
    â€œI really think we all ought to go now,” I said.
    â€œI promised to meet the man here.”
    â€œWell, he isn’t here,” I said, feeling like a rat, “and we really have to go out now. Mrs. Grail leaves at two, anyway. My husband told you that. And if I wasn’t here, you would have delayed her.” Miss Pip continued to stand in the hall doorway and stare at me with wide shocked eyes. “I think we ought to go,” I said, enunciating distinctly. Mrs. Grail and Bruce and Eric crowded up behind me and began to move forward. “I expect the man at any moment,” Miss Pip said, not moving. “I can see you’re very angry.”
    I could feel Mrs. Grail’s eyes.
    â€œWe’ll just stay here and wait for him,” Miss Pip said. “You can go.”
    â€œI don’t know if Mrs. Stackpole would like me to do that,” I said, remembering all the locks and keys….
    â€œWe’ll just stand in the hall,” Miss Pip said. “We won’t touch the wall. We won’t touch anything.” This was such an outrageous remark that I capitulated.
    â€œOh, you can’t stand in the hall,” I said. “Come in, sit down. Wait for him.”
    We edged past them, Indian file, and went out in silence. On the way to the bus I kept trying to justify my behavior to Mrs. Grail. I knew I had failed; I didn’t know whether I had been too unkind or not unkind enough. Later I was to think about Miss Pip’s persistence. It was a quality she shared with Mrs. Stackpole and Mr. MacAllister. These people were not to be put off. The Fuzzy Wuzzies, the East Indians, and Mrs. Grail’s ancestors, among others, had found it very difficult to put them off. By nature less positive than they, what chance had I?

13
Help in Sight
    A FTER SEVERAL cold and rainy days