“Gustave!” shrieked the Baroness, “get up and put this woman from the door. She don’t stop in the Red ’Ouse another hour! Let ’er pack up ’er trumpery and go! Do you ’ear me, Gustave? Turn ’er out of the room!”
“Mein tear! mein tear! a little patience! Miss Wynward will go quietly! But the law, mein tear, the law! We must be careful!”
“Damn the law!” exclaimed the Baroness. “’Ere, where’s that devil Bobby? Why ain’t ’e at dinner? What’s the good of my ’aving a ’usband and a son if neither of ’em will do my bidding!”
Then everyone looked round and discovered that Bobby was not at the table.
“Where’s Bobby?” demanded the Baroness of the servant in waiting.
“Don’t know, I’m sure,” replied the domestic, who like most of Madame Gobelli’s dependents, talked as familiarly with her as though they had been on an equality. “The last time I saw ’im was at luncheon.”
“I will go and look for him,” said Miss Wynward quietly, as she rose from table.
“No! you don’t!” exclaimed the Baroness insolently, “you don’t touch my child nor my ’usband again whilst you remain under this roof. I won’t ’ave them polluted by your fingers. ’Ere, Sarah, you go upstairs and see if Bobby’s in ’is room. It’ll be the worse for ’im if ’e isn’t.”
Sarah took her way upstairs, in obedience to her employer’s behest, and the next minute a couple of shrieks, loud and terrified, proceeded from the upper story. They were in Sarah’s voice, and they startled everyone at the dinner table.
“Oh! what is that?” exclaimed Harriet, as her face grew white with fear.