I think myself that having nothing to do but take his meals killed him.

I hear wheels! That'll be the Jowetts.
They're always so punctual.

Am I all right ?" Muriel assured her that nothing was wrong or lacking, and they waited for the guests.
The door opened and a servant announced, "Mr.and Mrs.Jowett." Mrs.Jowett walked very slowly and delicately, and her husband pranced behind her.

It might have been expected that in their long walk together through life Mr.Jowett would have got accustomed to his wife's deliberate entrances, but no--it always seemed as if he were just on the point of giving her an impatient push from behind.
She was a gentle-looking woman with soft, white hair and a pink-and-white complexion--the sort of woman one always associates with old lace.

In her youth it was said that she had played the harp, and one felt that the "grave, sweet melody" would have well become her.