“Not for the world,” replied Sir Lawrence, who thought it would be pleasant to act the prince in the fairy tale, and wake his sleeping beauty with a kiss. But he stayed for a minute to ask Phœbe a few questions.
“Is your mistress quite well?”
“As well as any one can be who is always worrying and fretting, sir.”
“We’ll soon alter that, Phœbe. There has been a miserable mistake, and I had no chance of explaining. But you may begin to pack up—we shall all be off to-morrow evening.”
“Shall we, indeed, sir?” exclaimed Phœbe joyfully. “I hope everybody will know who my mistress really is now, sir; for it wasn’t pleasant to see her looked down upon, who was so much better than all of them, and she wouldn’t even let me call her ‘my lady’ before the other servants.”
“What name did they know her by, then?”
“Mrs. St. Maur.”
“Has she had no friends in Wintertown?”
“Not one, sir. The clergyman of the parish came occasionally——”
“And his wife?”