"I must," said Jane. "I can't stay here any longer. I'll tell you about it when you come up again. You must go down directly now and tell James to excuse me to Mr. Towle."
But James was engaged in parleying with another visitor when Susan arrived at the level of the reception room, and after an instant's reflection she smoothed down her immaculate apron, touched up the frills of her cap, and boldly presented herself before the Hon. Wipplinger Towle, who was waiting with his wonted middle-aged patience.
"Miss Jane Evelyn's be'n took bad wi' a wi'lent 'eadache, sir, an' will you kindly excuse 'er, sir." And Susan bobbed her very best courtesy.
Mr. Towle stood up and fixed his glass in his eye. "Hum—ah! I am very sorry to hear it. You will—er—tell Miss Aubrey-Blythe so, with my compliments, my good girl."
"Yes, sir; I will, sir; an' thank you kindly, sir," said Susan, slipping something into her apron pocket, with a broad grin.
Mr. Towle appeared to be gazing rebukingly at the frills on Susan's cap; but that astute damsel knew better than to withdraw too hastily. Presently he spoke again. "You are—ah—Susan; are you not?"
"Yes, sir; thank you, sir. I ain't nobody else but Susan, sir," beamed the girl encouragingly. "An' I'm that fond of Miss Jane Evelyn, if you'll believe it, sir, 'as I'd lay down willin' i' the mud an' let her walk over me, that I would, sir!"
"Hum—ah!" murmured the Hon. Mr. Towle, "that is very good of you, I'm sure, Susan; most praiseworthy, in short. Do you—er—attend Miss Blythe when she—er—travels? She is going out of town, I believe."
"I don't know no mor'n nothink what Miss Jane Evelyn's a-goin' to do, sir. I'd give me heyes to go wi' 'er; that I would; but I'll not be let, sir."