“But this lady is not a servant, Aunt.”
“Don’t talk nonsense, Isabel,” said Aunt Anne tartly. “She is a servant, and she is not a lady. I can’t help it, my dear; I don’t like her at all, and I hope she will prove to be so dissatisfied, when she finds what she has to do, that she will want to go back to town at once. There’s too much of the fine madam about her for me.”
“Sir Denton would not have sent down a person who was not quite suitable, Aunt,” said Isabel gravely. “If she nurses poor papa well that is all we want.”
“Yes, my dear, but will she? There, I can’t help it; I must speak plainly. I am the least suspicious woman in the world, but I do not like a surprise like this being sprung upon us.”
“A surprise, Aunt?”
“Yes. Why did not Neil tell us what sort of a person this woman was going to be. He knows her, of course. You heard him call her by name.”
“Aunt, dear, of what are you thinking?” cried Isabel wonderingly, and giving her aunt a strangely perplexed look.
“Oh, nothing, my dear. There, I suppose I must see to her having some tea when she comes down. She will have her meals with the servants of course.”
“Has Nurse Elisia come down yet?” said Neil, entering quickly.
“No, my dear,” said Aunt Anne, pinching her lips together.