“Oh, yes, of course,” said Tom.
“And then there was a lot of whispering.”
“Yes, yes,” said Tom; “oh, yes, of course.”
“And that’s all, my lord, only my young mistress wasn’t in the room when I came back.”
“Now then, all of you,” cried Tom, “once for all, this absurd rumour is one of the most ridiculous—What’s that you say?” he cried sharply, as he heard a whisper.
“I was saying to Ma’amselle Justine that my young lady was always encouraging them men about, my lord,” said the housemaid, “and that if I’d been one of the spying sort I might have seen her.”
“Poor thing,” said the cook, loudly. “She has been drove to it. I have a heart of my own.”
“Silence!” roared Tom. “How dare you? Here, has any one else got anything to say? You? Oh yes, you are my sister’s maid.”
“Yes, my lord,” said Dolly Preen, spitefully.
“Well, what do you know?”