‘Ought we? Then we will be,’ says Dom; ‘never shall it be said that I shirked my duty, at all events. Carew, get out of that, and be ashamed of yourself instantly.’
‘Oh, that’s all very fine,’ says Betty, ‘trying to get out of it like that; but let me tell you that I think——’
However, what Betty may think of people who put boiled eggs under sitting hens is for ever lost to posterity, because at this moment Jane, with red eyes and a depressed demeanour, comes hurrying up to them across the small lawn, a covered basket in her hand.
CHAPTER XIII.
‘O, coward conscience, how dost thou afflict me!’
‘For you, miss,’ says she, handing the basket to Susan.
Susan turns crimson. That basket! She knows it well.
‘For me?’ stammers she.
‘Yes, miss.’
‘Who’—nervously—‘who brought it?’