Drying her eyes hastily, ashamed to have been detected, Mrs. Abercarne did as she was asked to do. But the words she read conveyed no meaning to her, or, at least, she pretended they did not. But a slight tone of acerbity was noticeable in her voice as she answered; and Chris knew that her mother understood.
“Well, my dear,” said the Colonel’s widow, with bland dignity, which she meant to denote unconsciousness, “I see nothing that can possibly interest you or me in the lines you have pointed out. Your finger must have slipped, I think.”
“Read the lines aloud, mother dear,” whispered Chris, caressing her mother’s hand.
Still with the same imperfect assumption of extreme innocence, Mrs. Abercarne read by the light of the fire the following advertisement:
“Wanted, a thoroughly reliable and trustworthy woman, with daughter preferred, as house-keeper in a large establishment, where the owner is often away. Apply by letter only in the first instance, to J. B., Wyngham House, Wyngham-on-Sea.”
“Well, my dear child,” said Mrs. Abercarne, superbly, as she laid down the paper, “surely that is not what you wanted me to read?”
But Chris buried her head in her mother’s shoulder.
“Yes, but it is, though,” she whispered.
Of course, the elder lady had expected this; equally, of course, she had to affect the utmost amazement.
“And is it possible, my dear Christina,” she murmured, gently, “that you can consider the words, ‘a reliable and trustworthy woman,’ applicable to me?”