“You would like to be undisturbed, I know. Shall I send your coffee to your room or to the schoolroom?”
I said, “To my room, if you please,” and went upstairs trying to swallow the lump in my throat.
It was silly of me; but I liked that half-hour in the drawing-room after dinner, and reading the papers over my coffee, and Mr. Rayner’s amusing comments on the news—it was such a pleasant rest.
I had got through one stupid letter—they were not at all important—when there was a knock at the door, and Jane came in, giggling and excited.
“Oh, miss, I’ve brought you a parcel, and I have made Sarah so wild!”—and she laughed delightedly. “I answered the bell, and there was Mr. Reade on his horse with this; and he said, ‘Take it to the schoolroom, please; it’s for Miss Christie;’ and then he got off, and I showed him into the drawing-room. And I saw you wasn’t in there, nor yet in the schoolroom. So when I got into the hall, thinks I, ‘I’ll be beforehand with old Sally this time!’ when out she comes and says, ‘Give that to me. I’ll give it to Miss Christie.’ ‘Never mind,’ says I, half-way up the stairs—‘don’t you trouble.’ And she made a grab at me, but I was too quick for her, and up I run; and here it is, miss.”
And she slapped the parcel down upon the table triumphantly.
“Thank you, Jane,” I said quietly. “It is only some work for the church from Miss Reade.”
Jane’s face fell a little; and then, as if struck by a fresh thought, she giggled again. I cut the string and opened the parcel to prove the truth of my words, and showed her the red flannel and the wheat-ears, which were to be sown on in letters to form a text. But in the middle was another note, and a box wrapped up in paper, both directed to “Miss Christie;” and at sight of these little Jane’s delight grew irrepressible again.
“I knew it!” she began, but stopped herself and said, “I beg your pardon, miss,” and left the room very demurely.
But I heard another burst of merriment as she ran downstairs. Then I opened the note; it only said—