By-and-by Joseline rose, in hopes of making her escape; but Lady Mulgrave, with an imperative gesture, motioned her to her side, and, looking up with half-closed eyes, exclaimed, “Now you must talk to me a little, dear girl.”
Joseline sat down in embarrassed silence.
“Dearest child, I really do think you so wonderful.” A pause, and she blew a cloud. “Six weeks ago you were in a cabin. It is extraordinary, is it not?”
“It is,” was the humble admission; “but it was not altogether what you might call a cabin.”
“No? And what, then—a hut?”
“Just a decent slated house with two good bedrooms, forby, a loft, and a fine kitchen and scullery.”
“Where did you sleep?”
“In the loft.”
“But, dearest, you said there were two bedrooms.”
“Yes, but we kept potatoes in one, and I liked being up high. And now, with your leave, I’d like to go away and write a few letters.”