“I am so sorry, miss,” said Bessie, meekly. “They told me to come upstairs and wait as usual——”
“Yes, yes; quite right,” said Olivia, quickly, “and I am very glad to see you. Take your things off and let us have some tea. Have you come to say ‘good-by’ to me, Bessie?” and she smiled again.
“No, not good-by, miss,” replied Bessie; “I’ve come to ask you to take me with you.”
“To take you with me! Why——”
“Yes, miss,” she went on, with downcast eyes, “I am going out into service, and I’ve come to ask you if you’ll engage me for your maid.”
“Why, Bessie!” exclaimed Olivia, catching at her arm and drawing her toward her. “You are going out to service! I thought your father could not spare you?”
“Yes, he can now, miss,” she said, as if she were repeating a well-rehearsed speech. “He has got my cousin Polly to keep house for him, and he wishes me to go out.”
“It is wonderful!” said Olivia, more brightly than she had spoken for weeks. “And you came to me, of course! How good of you! Of course I will take you—and how gladly! Fancy you being my maid! Why, it is too good to be true! I nearly engaged a girl from Wainford yesterday—my old one went to-day. How glad I am I didn’t do so quite! And you only just made up your mind to go into service! How fortunate I am!”
“It is me that’s fortunate, miss.”
“And when will you come?” asked Olivia, eagerly.