"What is the matter?" demanded Mr. Conyers, coming up.
"He asks half-a-crown, sir," said Ida Mara, turning round, "for carrying this parcel hither from Lambeth, where it was forgotten this morning."
"You had better give it him," replied Mr. Conyers, smiling; "it is a long way."
The fair Italian put the half-crown into Markham's hand, saying, "Well, take it up to the house, then. I will come after you, and carry it up to the lady's room."
"Stay a moment," said Mr. Conyers, as she was about to follow the seeming porter, who took up the package and walked on; "a word with you, pretty one. Remember, when you wish to speak with any of your friends, it must be outside the wall. I have no orders to keep you within--but nobody, except persons to myself, must for the future pass the gates."
His tone, though not unkind, was grave and significant; and Ida Mara, thinking it better to make no reply, merely bowed her head and withdrew, following her confederate quickly, and taking his burden from him at the door.
She watched him as he returned towards the gates, to which the master of the mansion had bent his steps after leaving her, and from which he was now coming back.
Mr. Conyers, however, passed the pretended porter without stopping, and Ida Mara hurried with the packet up to her mistress's chamber. As soon as she was there, she opened it, and, from the bottom, drew forth a bundle sewed up in a linen cloth, which she instantly deposited in a closet, and locked the door.
"What have you there, Ida?" asked Arabella. "A disguise for you, dear lady," replied the faithful girl, in a whisper, approaching close to her mistress's bedside. "I know not what it is, but we will not open it to-night."
She had scarcely done speaking, when an elderly woman, an attendant of Mrs. Conyers, tapped at the door and entered, asking if she could be of any assistance.