“My dear child, you”—and she broke into a laugh—“you wouldn’t dare!”
“Would I not? Just wait and see. The room is charming, and when it’s finished Auntie B. will be enchanted! You may leave her to me. Oh,” in another tone to Wynyard, who had come forward in search of some wire, “you have worked well. It must be your dinner-hour. We shall be ready to start again at half-past two o’clock, and then the parlour-maid will help you with the furniture.”
“Very well, miss,” he answered.
As Aurea walked off, followed by Miss Susan, Wynyard the imposter assured himself that Miss Morven was quicker witted than her aunts. He had noticed her expression of keen attention as he discussed a matter of a curtain pole with her relative, and it was quite possible that she already had an inkling of the truth! He must be careful and wary not to give himself away or utter a word beyond “Yes, miss,” and “No, miss.” He was already attending closely to the speech of Tom Hogben, and had marked the scantiness and laziness of his vocabulary; how he never said more than he could help, and used the words, “Sure-ly,” and “I dunno,” and “ye see,” and “’ee” for “he,” and “I be” for “I am,” and resolved to imitate him.
The meal in the servants’ hall proved an even more trying ordeal than he anticipated, and was altogether so disagreeable to the new chauffeur that, sooner than face it again, he determined to fast.
The London cook (Miss Hicks) and four maids were present, also the boot-boy—a clumsy yokel, who was in terrified attendance. Owen sat on Miss Hicks’ right hand, and received all her attention, the best helpings, and daintiest morsels of a solid and satisfying meal.
She would scarcely suffer the other servants to address him, though the rosy-cheeked parlour-maid made bold and even desperate attempts. She plied him with questions, compliments, and information. For his part, he proved a disappointing guest, and did not afford Miss Hicks much satisfaction; she came to the conclusion that in spite of his fine figure and good looks the chauffeur was a dull sort of chap, and terribly backward at taking a hint. When she nudged him with her elbow, and pressed his foot under the table, there was no response—in fact, he moved a bit away! However, she laid the flattering unction to her soul that the poor fellow was shy. He was duly favoured with the cook’s candid opinion of the place and their employers, namely, that Miss P. was an old terror, was a shocking one for running after lords and ladies, and talking grand, yet that mean and sneaking she would frighten you! She and Miss Norris, housekeeper at the Rectory, were cuts, only for the Rector; anyway, Norris never came to the Manor. Miss Susan was a lady, but a giddy old thing, so fond of gadding and amusement, and laws! what a one to talk! As for Miss Aurea——
No, he could not sit by and hear Miss Aurea dissected, and with an excuse that he wanted to have a pipe before he went back to his job, the chauffeur pushed away his unfinished cheese, and with a civil farewell took his departure.
The afternoon was a busy one: the mirrors were put up, pictures were hung, but with many incursions and interruptions from Miss Parrett. Joss, the dog, was also in and out, and seemed inclined to attach himself to Wynyard.
Miss Parrett, still hooded, sat upright in an arm-chair, offering irritating criticisms, and quarrelling vigorously as to the position of pictures and articles of furniture; the old lady was altogether extremely troublesome and argumentative, and gave double work. Thoroughly alive to the fact that her niece had good taste, she was jealous of her activities, and yet wished to see the old rooms arranged to the best advantage—as the result would redound to her personal credit.