“All right, ma’am. I’ve never cleaned windows yet, but I’ll do my best; perhaps you will give me something to clean them with?”
“Go through that door and you will find the kitchen,” said Miss Parrett. “The cook will give you cloths, soap, and a bucket of water. You may begin in the dining-room;” and pointing towards the servants’ quarters, she left him. As he disappeared, Susan, who had overheard the last sentence, boldly remonstrated—
“Really, Bella, that young man is not supposed to undertake such jobs! He was only engaged as chauffeur, and I’m sure if you set him to do housework, he will leave.”
“Let him, and mind your own business, Susan,” snapped her sister. “He is in my employment, and I cannot afford to pay him two guineas a week—six shillings a day—for doing nothing. I am not a millionaire! As it is, my hand is never out of my pocket.”
“But you engaged him to drive the car, and if you are afraid to go out in it, is that his fault?” argued Susan, with surprising courage.
“Who says I’m afraid?” demanded Miss Parrett furiously. “Susan, you forget yourself. I shall have the car to-morrow, and motor over to call on the Woolcocks.”
Meanwhile Owen passed into the back premises, which were old and spacious. Here, in a vast kitchen overlooking a great paved yard, he found a tall woman engaged in violently raking out the range. She started as he entered, and turned a handsome, ill-tempered face upon him.
“Can you let me have some cloths and a bucket of hot water?” he asked in his clear, well-bred voice.
“Yes, sir,” she answered, going to a drawer. “What sort of cloths—flannels or rubbers?”
“Something for cleaning windows.”