"I really don't think I ought to go in," Haverford repeated earnestly.
But Caroline had unlocked the door with a latchkey.
"I think Mrs. Lancing would like to see you," she said. She spoke stiffly; she did not feel quite at her ease with him. "Shall I go up and tell her you are here?"
"Yes; go," said Betty. "Mr. Haverford will take care of us; he's a very us-a-ful man. We'll play that he's a new nurse. Come on, Babsy!"
As she passed up the stairs Caroline said to herself—
"He did not say anything disagreeable, and he did not look very cross. I am rather glad."
Mrs. Lancing was sitting in front of the fire leaning back in a chair; a book lay open upon her knees. It was the day following the midnight raid on the nursery.
She looked very ill, and was very languid, and utterly unlike herself.
Dennis and Caroline had combined to keep Mrs. Lancing in bed all the morning, and if Dennis could have had her way she would have called a doctor; but Camilla prohibited this.
She looked round now with a start as the door opened and Caroline reappeared.