“Fro’ Mrs Joyce Morrell, to tell him who I were, and a bit more, I reckon.”
“I asked my Lord Oxford of his goodness to speak to some upholder (upholsterer) to send in a little necessary furnishing,” said Lady Louvaine, looking round, “such as were strictly needful, and should last us till we could turn us about: but methinks he hath done somewhat more than that.”
“You’ll turn you round middling easy, Madam,” answered Charity. “Th’ upholder were bidden to put th’ house to rights all through, and send the bill to Mistress Joyce. She gave me lodging fro’ Setterday to Monday, and bade me see to ’t that yo’ had all things comfortable. ‘Don’t split sixpences,’ she saith; ‘the bigger the charges the better, so long as they be for true comfort and not for gimcracks.’ So, Madam, I hope we’ve hit your Ladyship’s liking, for me and Mrs Joyce, we tried hard—me at choosing, and she at paying. So that’s how it were.”
And dropping a quick courtesy, Charity departed with too much alacrity for thanks.
Lady Louvaine’s eyes followed her.
“The lines are fallen unto us in pleasant places,” quoted Edith, softly.
“Ay,” answered her mother. “And the pillar of the cloud hath gone before.”
Charity found Rachel in the kitchen, carrying a carpet-bag and a great bundle, and gazing round her with a bewildered air.
“Well, lass, what’s ta’en thee?” was her greeting.
“Eh, Charity Ashworth, is that thee? Where art thou fro’?”