“You may find it for yourself.”
“Will you take a message for me then?”
“I am not Miss Wylder's maid!” she replied. “Neither is it my place to wait on my fellow-servants.”
She turned away, tossing her head, and rounded the corner into the corridor.
Richard looked down the passage. A light was burning at the other end of it, and he saw there were not many doors in it. With a sudden resolve to go straight ahead, he called out clear and plain—
“Miss Wylder!” and again, “Miss Wylder!”
A door opened and, to his delight, out peeped Barbara's dainty little head. She saw Richard, gave one glance in the opposite direction, and made him a sign to come to her. He did so. She was in her dressing-gown: it was not her candle he had followed, but its light had led him to her!
“What is it!” she said hurriedly. “Don't speak loud: lady Ann might hear you!”
“There's a girl all but dying—” began Richard.
“Go to the library,” she said. “I will come to you there. I shan't be a minute!”