“Did she? I sincerely hope he is a better find than the cook. What a fury! Even Aunt Bella is afraid of her!”
“She has a splendid character from her late mistress.”
“I dare say, in order to pass her on at any price. She’s a first-rate cook, but a regular demon.”
“My dear, they all have tempers—it’s the fire, poor things. Now, about the chauffeur——”
At this moment the object of her conversation threw up the sash and stepped into the room—a fine figure in his clean blue shirt, turned up to the elbows, well-cut breeches, and neat leather leggings.
“I’ve finished this room, miss,” he said, addressing himself to Miss Susan. “What am I to do next?” and his eyes rested upon her with respectful inquiry.
“No more windows to-day, thank you, Owen. I expect it is nearly your dinner-hour.”
“Shall you require the car this afternoon, miss?”
“No; but it will certainly be wanted to-morrow,—eh, Aurea?”
“Then I’d better take her out and give her a turn;” and with this remark he picked up his bucket and rags, and walked out of the room.