'And what do you think of my invitation? Are you pleased to be here?'
'Yes, I think I am,' I said honestly. 'I was a little shy about it at first; but now I have come, it seems so restful and quiet.'
'That's because I was out,' she said, with a short laugh; 'but I will allow it is a quieter house than the one you have left. When do they leave for town?'
'To-morrow.'
'And are you longing to be with them?'
There was a quizzical gleam in her eye, as my gaze met hers.
'No,' I said a little gravely; 'they would rather be without me, and I should not be happy with them.'
'You evidently do not shake in well with them. Ah, well! I will not catechise you too closely the first evening. I shall soon find out what your special fads and crotchets are. Now, would you like to come upstairs to your room? I dine at half-past seven, and it is nearly seven now. Have you made friends with Susan? I call her my maid-of-all-work—she was my mother's maid years ago, and has stuck to me ever since. I have a very small establishment, as you perceive. Susan is house, parlour, and lady's-maid all in one, with only a young girl to help her. John is coachman, groom, and gardener combined, and an old cook completes our household.'
'But who helps in the—the poultry farm?' I asked, as I followed her up the old-fashioned staircase.
'I keep a man and a boy for that part of the business; they sleep out of the house.'