"I hope it's about them beastly cats as Missis is so fond of," muttered Alice, as she stood near the half-opened kitchen door.
She could not hear a word that was said distinctly, but she could distinguish Lady Mary's loud imperious tones, and then her mistress seemed to protest in a thin piping voice that only made the other more angry.
Then after a time, the heavy footstep came downstairs, and before she could get to the street door to open it, she heard it closed with a bang.
Then Alice went into the scullery to scour some dirty sauce-pans, and amused herself by singing a popular ditty at the top of her voice, which she was not always so free to do as she was this morning.
She had finished her scullery work, to her own satisfaction at least, and was tying on a clean apron preparatory to setting the dinner-table, when there came a knock at the door which she instantly recognized as Miss Molly's, and ran to open it.
"Thank you, Alice!" said Molly pleasantly, and then she went to the foot of the stairs and called: "We have come home, Mamma."
There was no reply from the upper room, and Molly remarked:
"She must have shut her door, I think."
"Have you been singing, Alice?" asked Annie.
"Just a little," admitted Alice, with a heightened colour. "But I didn't begin while the lady was here."