“Tea for the party, and anything else you have in the house that is good to eat with it.”
“Yes, sir.”
And the waiter pulled the white tablecloth this way and that and smoothed it with the palms of his hands, apparently for no other reason than to prove his zeal, for he did not improve the cloth.
Mr. Force and Le walked out “to look around,” they said.
CHAPTER XXXIII
A CLEW
The one maid-of-all-work came in and asked the young lady if she would not like to go to a room and wash her face and hands.
Wynnette decidedly would like it, and said so.
The girl was a fresh, wholesome-looking English lass, with rosy cheeks and rippling red hair. She wore a dark blue dress of some cheap woolen material, with a white apron and white collar.
She led the young lady out into the hall again, and up a flight of broad stone steps to an upper hall, and thence into a front bed chamber, immediately over the parlor.
Here again were the whitewashed walls, clean bare floor, the broad, white-shaded window, the open fireplace filled with evergreens, the polished wooden chairs, ranged along the walls, and all the dainty neatness of the room below. There were, besides, a white-curtained bed, with a strip of carpet on each side of it; a white-draped dressing table with an oval glass, and a white-covered washstand, with white china basin and ewer. In a word, it was a pure, fresh, dainty, and fragrant white room.