Chapter Nine.
A Social Thunderbolt.
“Morning!” said Uncle Josiah, as, after a turn up and down the dining-room, he saw the door open and his sister enter, looking very pale and red-eyed. “Why, Laura, you have not been to bed.”
“Yes,” she said sadly. “I kept my word, and now I feel sorry that I did, for I fell into a heavy sleep from which I did not wake till half an hour ago.”
“Glad of it,” said her brother bluffly. “That’s right, my dear, make the tea; I want my breakfast, for I have plenty of work to-day.”
Mrs Lavington hastily made the tea, for the urn was hissing on the table when she came down, Uncle Josiah’s orders being that it was always to be ready at eight o’clock, and woe betide Jessie if it was not there.
“Have—have you seen Don this morning?”
“No. And when he comes down I shall not say a word. There, try and put a better face on the matter, my dear. He will have to appear at the magistrate’s office, and there will be a few admonitions. That’s all. Isn’t Kitty late?”