Lydia Fenny sank back in her seat with a groan.
"Oh, my poor mistress!"
"Your mistress!" echoed Miss Lifford, turning sharply. "It could not have been Miss Sarschine who called on that night."
"But I'm certain it was," said Dowker.
"What impertinence!" muttered the virtuous Anne.
"Never mind," said Dowker sharply, "go on with your story,"
Miss Lifford sniffed indignantly and resumed:
"Lady Balscombe returned at half-past ten and went up to her dressing-room, where this--this lady was waiting for her. Miss Penfold went to bed. I don't know how long the lady was with my mistress, as I was told that my mistress would not require me again that night; but I waited about in case I should be wanted, and saw the lady leave the house shortly after eleven."
"Miss Sarschine?"
"Yes--at least, the lady in the sealskin jacket, and you say it was Miss Sarschine, so I suppose it was. I then went to Lady Balscombe's room, but found the door locked, so as I thought she had gone to bed I went downstairs to get my supper. When I came upstairs again, about twelve, the door was still locked, so I went to bed."