Again Mrs. Bean cut her short.
“Didn’t they teach you, in the place you came from, that curiosity was the worst sin a woman can have?” she asked drily. “A wise woman doesn’t meddle with anything outside her own business, and especially she does not poke her nose into any business where men only are concerned. I see you’ve had a fire,” she went on in a less severe tone.
“Yes, Crispin made it for me.”
Mrs. Bean shook her head good-humouredly.
“You’re making a fool of that man. He was to have gone away last night, and he is still hanging about this morning. And it’s all because of you, I’m certain. Now make haste and get dressed, for I’ve got a tiresome day’s work before me, and I want to get the breakfast done with as soon as I can.”
It was a bright, sunny morning. The numerous windows let in floods of sunshine, the snow outside dazzled the eyes, even the knights and dames in the picture-gallery seemed to be in better spirits. In the dining-room Freda found Crispin, who affected to treat her with marked coldness, and to be grieved that he had had to put off his journey until the following night. Now although she stood in some awe of the housekeeper, Freda had no fear whatever of Crispin; so she very soon opened the dangerous subject.
“Crispin,” she began solemnly, “I heard you last night after I was in bed.”
“Very likely,” he answered quietly.
“There were some men with you.”
“Yes, so there were.”