“It looks delicious!” said Dorothy, who discovered at the sight of food that she was starving. In fact all three were hungry, and for some little time conversation was dropped while the soft-footed Tunbridge waited upon them.
“We will have a chat tomorrow, Janet,” Mrs. Lawson said presently. “Tonight you are tired and so am I. We take breakfast in our rooms. Ring for it when you’re ready, but don’t hurry about getting up, I’ll see you down here about eleven-thirty. Have you had enough to eat and drink, my dear?”
“Plenty, thank you, Mrs. Lawson.” Dorothy thought it would be just as well if she played the demure mouse until she had a chance to size up her employer.
“Then I think we’ll go upstairs, Janet, and I’ll show you your room.” She looked at her husband. “You’ll be coming up soon, Martin?”
“Just as soon as I finish this pipe, and get a bit warmer.”
“I think,” said Mrs. Lawson, “that both you and Janet had better take a hot lemonade before you go to bed. I don’t want to have you both laid up with colds tomorrow.” She smiled solicitously at the girl.
“I hate the filthy stuff,” protested her husband.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she answered coldly and turned to the butler. “Tunbridge, have hot lemonades sent to Miss Jordan and Mr. Lawson in about twenty minutes, if you please.”
“Very good, madam.”
Laura Lawson slipped her arm through Dorothy’s. “Don’t be long, Martin.”