"Yes, very," she replied, "but you won't see him to-night, dearie, for he has gone to a big meeting at Alwinton and he will not be home until quite late."
"Oh!" Amethyst's face fell somewhat; she rather liked telling her own news, and the events of that day had been quite exciting ones to her. "Well, you will have to tell him then, mumsie, I suppose. But couldn't you only say just enough, and leave the rest for me to tell at breakfast?"
And her mother promised she would.
CHAPTER XI.
"A NICE ENOUGH LITTLE DOG, AS DOGS GO."
"Is there anything else you're wanting, Miss Monica?"
And Mary Ann, who had been for the last half-hour engaged in arranging everything for the comfort and convenience of her young mistress, paused as she reached the door of the apartment, half-schoolroom, half-boudoir, which Monica called her "prison-house," and looked towards the occupant of a low couch that had been drawn up to the open window.
"Oh, yes, you might put those books where I can reach them," and Monica indicated a pile of library books which were lying on a low bookcase in a corner of the room. The maid obeyed, and placed them on a table by Monica's side, on which she kept the various things with which she vainly endeavoured to while away the tedium of the long, long days.
"Are you sure there's nothing else, miss?"
"I don't think there is, thanks." And the housemaid was just departing, when she was recalled by the sound of her name.