“Thank you very much,” said Rhoda.
She had a transient fancy that Sir Robert recalled something in her name or in her person, for he looked at her suddenly with a slight frown and with vague curiosity. He did not, however, ask her any questions, and a few minutes later Rhoda was going upstairs, escorted by the footman, towards the rooms where the housekeeper was busy preparing for her reception.
The man threw open a door and announced:
“Miss Pembury, Mrs. Hawkes,” and Rhoda entered.
The man went away, and Rhoda heard an exclamation from the grey-haired woman in spectacles who was drawing a cover over a little table in the pretty sitting-room.
“Why, it’s Miss Rhoda!” cried the grey-haired woman.
The visitor exclaimed in her turn.
“Bessie!” cried she.
Neither woman could restrain her tears.
“I’m housekeeper here now,” said Bessie, wiping her eyes. “But, oh, Miss Pembury, to think Sir Robert shouldn’t know you! And to think of your turning up here, after all this time, and us wanting you so bad ten years ago!”