the prey of a nagging doubt

remembering the bites Zara had already received, Mary was silent.
Even Zara’s amateurish hand thus finally withdrawn, it became Mary’s task to find some worthy and capable person to act as mistress. Taking her obligations seriously, she devoted her last days in Australia to conning and penning advertisements, and interviewing applicants.
“Now no one too attractive, if you please, Mrs. Mahony!— if you don’t want him to fall a victim,” teased Richard. “Remember our good John’s inflammability. He’s a very Leyden jar again at present. No, indeed I don’t,” said Mary with emphasis. “But the children are the first consideration. Oh, dear! it does seem a shame that Tilly shouldn’t have them to look after. And it would relieve John of so much responsibility. As it is, he’s even asked me to make it plain to Tilly that he wishes Trotty to spend her holidays at school. and shook her head at men’s irrationality. For Jinny’s offspring had none of the grace and beauty that marked the two elder children.
And now the last night had come; and they were gathered, a family party, round John’s mahogany. The cloth had been removed; nuts and port were passing. As it was a unique occasion the ladies had been excused from withdrawing, and the gentlemen left their cigars unlighted. Mary’s eyes roved fondly from one face to another. There was Tilly, come over from her hotel —(“Nothing would induce me to spend a night under his roof, Mary”)— Tilly sat hugging one of the children, who had run in for the almonds and raisins of dessert. “What a mother lost in her!” sighed Mary once more. There was Zara, so far reconciled to her brother as to consent to be present; but only speaking at him, not to him. And dear Jerry, eager and alert, taking so intelligent a share in what was said. Poor Ned alone was wanting, neither Richard nor John having offered to pay his fare to town. Young Johnny’s seat was vacant, too, for the boy had vanished directly dinner was over.
In the harmony of the evening there was just one jarring note for Mary; and at moments she grew very thoughtful. For the first time Mrs. Kelly, the motherly widow on whom her choice had fallen, sat opposite John at the head of the table; and already Mary was the prey of a nagging doubt. For this person had doffed the neat mourning-garb she had worn when being engaged, and come forth in a cap trimmed with cherry coloured ribbons. Not only this, she smiled in sugary fashion and far too readily; while the extreme humility with which she deferred to John’s opinion, and hung on his lips, made another bad impression on Mary. Nor was she alone in her observations. After a particularly glaring example of the widow’s complaisance, Tilly looked across and shut one eye, in an unmistakable wink.