“I go myself to-day, Jenny,” said Mrs Jane, gently but gravely. “The matter will brook no delay. Take thine heart to thee, and do as I bid thee: thou wert best be out of it all.”
Poor Jenny went slowly up to the garret to fetch her bags, which had been stowed there out of the way.
As she came down with them in her hands, she met Millicent.
“You’ve had warning, have you?” said Millicent, in a whisper. “There’s somewhat wrong, you take my word for it! You make haste and get away, and thank your stars you’ve a good home to go to. We’re all to go, every soul save two—old Master’s Diggory and me.”
“What, Mr Featherstone too?” exclaimed Jenny.
“Oh, he’s going with the Colonel to France. But Master and Madam, they set forth to-morrow, and Diggory and I go with them. Mark my words, there’s somewhat wrong! and if it goes much further, I shall just give my warning and be off. I’ve no notion of getting into trouble for other folks.”
“But whatever is it all about?” said Jenny.
“Well, if you want my thoughts on it,” whispered Millicent, in an important tone, “I believe it’s all ’long of that Jackson. You thought he was a decent sort of fellow, you know. But you’ve to learn yet, Jenny Lavender, as all isn’t gold as glitters.”
“I think I’m finding that out, Mrs Millicent,” sighed Jenny; “didn’t I think I was made for life no further back than yesterday? However, there’s no time to waste.”
She packed up her things, and made a hurried dinner; took leave of all in the house, not without tears; and then, mounting Bay Winchester behind Robin Featherstone, rode home in the cool of the evening.