“Is she?” said I, unable to keep my face from brightening at the welcome words.
“Yes, miss. Oh, there has been a rumpus, and no mistake! You just should have heard her go on! But she’s going, and I’m not sorry, for one.”
“What is she going away for?” said I.
“Don’t you know, miss?”
She spoke shyly, but was evidently prepared to disbelieve me if I said “No.”
“I can guess; but what reason did she give you?”
“Oh, it’s all along of you, miss! She burst in to cook and me this morning, and said as she wasn’t going to stay in a house where there was such goings on. That was what she said, miss.” And she paused, her shyness again getting the better of her anxiety to pour out all she had heard.
“Go on, go on. You know I asked you to tell me,” said I gently.
“Well, miss, she said all kind o’ things about you; but we didn’t take much notice o’ them, cook and me; we’re used to old Sally. But then she said—she said—”
“Yes—well?”