"Who is she? Oh yes. The brat of a girl that urchin of mine talks about. He wants to come over and see her, but I won't let him."
"Why not, my lady? I should like to see my own flesh and blood."
"Well, then, you won't," snapped Miss Berengaria. "And don't you tell Victoria the boy is with me, or I'll discharge him."
"So Mr. Grant said, my lady. He having told me as Jerry was page to your ladyship."
"Hum! It's none of Mr. Grant's business. I can manage my own affairs without his assistance. Come along and show me to a room where I can put my hair tidy; it's blown about by the wind. And see that the coachman feeds the horses. He's a fool."
"I'll see to it, my lady. And Victoria——?"
"Hold your tongue about Victoria."
"I will, my lady. Come this way, my lady," and Mrs. Moon plunged along the corridor with little Miss Berengaria trotting briskly at her heels. She looked like a cock-boat following in the wake of a three-decker. And all the time she scolded the meek giantess.
While Mrs. Moon was thus suffering, the lovers were talking eagerly in the sitting-room, where the table was already laid for luncheon. Victoria had departed, so they had the apartment to themselves, and for the moment, in spite of the depressing surrounding circumstances, they were absolutely happy.
"Dearest," said Bernard, taking the girl's hand, "I have hungered for this moment. Alice, you are more beautiful than ever."