"May I take your message?" she asked. She spoke shyly. This young and very pretty woman was a new experience to her. She felt a little out of the atmosphere, and imagining swiftly that Mrs. Brenton and Mrs. Lancing might have something to say to one another, she seized the chance of leaving them together.
"Oh, thank you!" said Camilla; "you are very kind. Just say to the groom that Mrs. Lancing will not ride any more to-day.—Poor little soul," said Camilla, sympathetically as the door closed, "how miserably thin she is; she looks as if she had not had enough to eat, and you are in your proper quarter, Agnes, playing the part of the good Samaritan. Well, now you must help me, my dear, because nurse is in earnest. I quite expect to find that she has gone when I get back. Why on earth do servants have parents and relations? I believe they exist on purpose to have the most mysterious diseases at the most inconvenient moments. Did you ever know a cook whose mother had not a bad leg, whatever that may be? Oh, how I hate housekeeping! I feel half inclined to live in an hotel."
"You ought to take the children into the country," said Mrs. Brenton in her quiet way.
Camilla ate a very good breakfast, and then looked up at her friend with a quizzical expression.
"Well, Agnes," she said, and paused.
Mrs. Brenton just smiled.
"Well, Camilla?" she answered.
Mrs. Lancing laughed as she spread some butter on some toast.
"When you look straight down your nose in that fashion it means the wind is in a bad quarter for somebody, and I fancy that somebody is me just now."
Agnes Brenton laughed, but only slightly, and, getting up, moved to the fireplace.