“Women, sir, more the pity! women of the church—old women who came to take tea and talk scandal with the housekeeper.”
“And did Drusilla—did my poor child hear all this?”
“I think not, sir. Mad as the mother was, she had sense enough left to send her daughter out of the room whenever she was about to babble. No, sir; I feel sure Miss Drusilla knows nothing about it.”
“Thank heaven for that! She shall never know.”
“These reports, sir, caused me, in writing to you of the housekeeper’s death, to ask you what should be done with Miss Drusilla; for I knew that this house was no longer a proper home for her, as I took the liberty of hinting to you, sir; for though Molly and myself and indeed all the servants, did all we could to put a stop to these rumors, we could not succeed in doing it. And so, sir,” repeated the old man, “I made so bold as to ask you what should be done with Miss Drusilla.”
“I know NOW what shall be done with her. She shall be married!” said Alexander Lyon, grimly. “And now, Dorset, you may go; and remember, not one word of this interview to any living creature!” he added.
“Surely not, sir,” said the old man, bowing himself out of the room, and much wondering, if Miss Drusilla was to be married, where Mr. Lyon meant to find her a husband.
CHAPTER XI.
JOY FOR DRUSILLA.
Joy trickled in her tears, joy filled the sob
That rocked her heart till almost heard to throb;