"Only the old bitterness—don't mind it, Jessie. But we won't tell Mrs. Dennison."
At that moment I detected a rustle in the hall. My hearing was always singularly acute,—Jessie used to say that I was like a wild animal in that respect,—and I felt confident that I heard some one stealing away from behind us.
I started up at once, hurried into the hall, and met Cora, Mrs. Dennison's maid, face to face. She was running off—I could have sworn to that; but the moment she heard my step she turned toward me with her usual composure and pleasant smile.
"What do you want here, Cora?" I asked, more sharply than I often spoke to a dependant; for, of all people in the world, it is my habit to treat servants kindly. "Pray, what brings you into this hall?"
"I was just coming to look for my mistress, ma'am. Excuse me; I didn't know it was wrong."
"I have not said that it was," I answered, still convinced that she had been listening; "but our own domestics are never permitted to pass through this hall unless called."
"I will remember—I beg pardon."
"Mrs. Dennison is not here."
"Oh! excuse me—"