'I'm afraid I don't follow you. Do you?' he asked, turning to Lucy.
She started. 'Yes,' she said.
'Really. Then you are cleverer than I am,' said Wemyss.
Lizzie at this—for she didn't want to make any more trouble for the young lady—made a further effort to explain. 'It was punctual in the library, sir, at 'alf-past four if you'd been there to 'ave it. The tea was punctual, sir, but there wasn't no one to 'ave it.'
'And pray by whose orders was it in the library?'
'I couldn't say, sir. Chesterton——'
'Don't put it on to Chesterton.'
'I was thinking,' said Lizzie, who was more stout-hearted than the parlourmaid and didn't take cover quite so frequently in dumbness, 'I was thinking p'raps Chesterton knew. I don't do the tea, sir.'
'Send Chesterton,' said Wemyss.
Lizzie disappeared with the quickness of relief. Lucy, with a nervous little movement, stooped and picked up Wuthering Heights, which was still lying face downward on the floor.