“There, that will do—get on downstairs.”
She stood back for her daughter to pass her, and then followed to the door, where a whispered conversation ensued.
“What? Left the brush?”
“Yes; other side of the room.”
“Be quick, then. Fetch it out.”
The housekeeper was passing through the door as she spoke, and Becky reappeared, to cross the room hurriedly, with her face lighting up as she gave the prisoner a meaning look, drew something from her bosom, and thrust it into Kate’s hand, and took the note offered to her.
“Now, Becky!” came from outside.
The woman darted to the door.
“Well?”
“Can’t find it. Tain’t there.”