“Yes, my lord.”
Esmeralda’s room was small like the others, and like the others as dainty as a piece of Dresden china. It was all white and sea-blue, and flowers were everywhere and filled the air with their perfume. Esmeralda sunk into a chair, and looked round her dreamily.
“Isn’t it a pretty little place, miss—I beg your ladyship’s pardon—my lady?” said Barker, as she took off Esmeralda’s hat and jacket. “I’ve often heard of it, but I’d no idea it was so beautiful. And it’s all the same all through. And there’s a dairy—a tiny little place like a doll’s house. And there’s an orchard at the back, and some meadows with cows and a donkey in them. I’ve unpacked some of your ladyship’s things—I’m sure I don’t know where I shall put them—and what will your ladyship wear this evening?”
Esmeralda roused herself.
“Anything—it does not matter,” she said.
Barker looked rather shocked, as if Esmeralda had been guilty of profanity.
“Oh, my lady!” she murmured, “I was thinking that the black lace of Worth’s—”
“That will do,” said Esmeralda, indifferently.
“Yes, my lady; and”—as she got the dress from the white-wood wardrobe—“there are only two men-servants, a gardener and a groom, and the gardener sees to the cows. So different to Belfayre, isn’t it, my lady? But it’s the prettiest place I ever saw; a paradise in a nut-shell, I call it. Will your ladyship wear the diamond or the pearl suite? Either will go with this dress.”