And Phoebe, accepting the solution, took the advice. She was scarcely asleep again, as it seemed to her, when the door was softly opened, and Betty came in.
“Mrs Rhoda, my dear, you’d better get up.”
“What time is it?” sleepily murmured Rhoda.
“You’d better get up,” repeated Betty. “Never mind the time.”
“Betty, is there something the matter?”
Betty ignored Phoebe’s question.
“Come, my dear, jump up!” she said, still addressing Rhoda. “You’ll be wanted by-and-bye.”
“Who wants me?” inquired Rhoda, making no effort to rise.
“Well, Mr Dawson, the lawyer, is coming presently, and you’ll have to see him.”
“I!” Rhoda’s eyes opened pretty wide. “Why should I see him? ’Tis Madam wants him, not me.”