“Maid? Oh, no. For goodness sake——”
“Why, of course a maid! Mother has two—one for her clothes, and one for her hair! Here we are”—and she ushered Joseline into a lofty bedroom on the first floor. “Is it not nice?”
“’Tis elegant! ’tis grand”—gazing about at the silk hangings, silver looking-glass, and French furniture. “Just beautiful.”
“Do let me help you off with your wraps! Dear me! how different you are to what we expected!”
“Yes?”—sitting down wearily. “What did you expect?”
“Oh, a sort of bare-legged girl, with a turf creel on her back.”
The new-comer laughed hysterically as she removed her hat-pins. “Oh, well, I never was just as bad as that!”
“I think you have made a most successful first appearance. You carried the house by storm, and, figuratively speaking, will have splendid notices in all the morning papers. You don’t understand my jargon? And you are worn out. Ah! here comes your maid. Justine, this is her ladyship. I see you have brought up some soup. You will look after her? She is frightfully tired. What time do you get up in the morning?”—turning to Joseline.
“Half-past six!” was the prompt reply.
“Half-past—horror! I generally emerge about eleven. To-morrow, I’ll come and look you up early, and we will go round the grounds together whilst Justine unpacks. Of course you breakfast in bed!”