"HAVE you nearly finished, Barnes?"
The speaker—Miss Leighton—put the question in a querulous tone. She had that moment entered her bedroom at Higher Brimley, where her maid was engaged in packing her belongings; and, taking off her bonnet and cloak, she flung them upon the bed with an irritability of manner which showed she had been put out.
"Yes, ma'am," Barnes answered, as she proceeded to lock the last trunk and securely fasten its leather straps.
"I have been to Lower Brimley," Miss Leighton announced. "I thought I would call and say good-bye to the Tiddys this evening, but they have gone to Penzance for the day and taken the child with them."
There was a distinct note of disappointment in her voice, and her face wore an expression of mingled annoyance and regret.
"They might have thought that I should call to-day!" she exclaimed, vexedly.
"Do they know you are leaving to-morrow, ma'am?" Barnes questioned, respectfully.
"I told Mrs. Tiddy I intended leaving at the end of this week: probably she imagines that would be on Saturday—not Friday. I should like to have said good-bye to little Peggy. Barnes, what I would give if the child's parents would consent to my adopting her!"
"Ma'am!" cried Barnes in great astonishment, rising to her feet—she had been kneeling to secure the straps of the trunk—and staring at her mistress as though she doubted if she had heard aright. "Her mother would never permit it!" she declared decisively.
"How do you know?" queried Miss Leighton, with a frown and a cold glance of displeasure.