Evidently Miss Craigie was in the habit of obeying Mrs. Enderby. She opened the front door and called the chauffeur, who came in with the trunk.
“Turn your back!” whispered Mrs. Enderby to Lexy. “Go and look out of the window!”
Lexy heard the man go past the sitting room and up the stairs. Presently he came running down, and the front door closed after him.
“Now, Miss Craigie,” said Mrs. Enderby, “if you will permit Miss Moran to go upstairs?”
“Oh, certainly!” answered the bewildered Miss Craigie. “Whatever you think best, Mrs. Enderby, I’m sure.”
“Go!” said Mrs. Enderby.
The lady’s tone aroused in Lexy a great desire not to go. Of course, now that she had gone so far, it would be childish to refuse to continue; but she meant to take her time. She stood there by the window, slowly drawing off her gloves, her back turned to the room. Suddenly Mrs. Enderby caught her by the shoulder and turned her around.
“Go!” she said again. “Take off those things of my child’s. Mon Dieu! Mon Dieu! Have you no heart?”
There was such a note of anguish in her voice that Lexy no longer delayed. She followed Miss Craigie up the stairs to a neat, prim little bedroom, where the trunk stood, already unlocked.
“If you want anything—” suggested Miss Craigie, in her gentle and apologetic way.