“Sure to be dusty in there,” he muttered; and, turning back to the table, he deposited the cakes in a plate, which the next minute was standing beside its fellow in the back of the bookcase.
The boy’s next act was to replace the books; but there was not room for them and the plates, and the consequence was that they projected about a couple of inches from the edge of the shelf, while when he tried to shut the glass bookcase door, it too, stood a little way out.
“Don’t suppose she will see,” he muttered, and, satisfied now with what he had done, he went and unbolted the dining-room door, and, feeling very guilty, took his place at the table, poured out his tea, was very liberal with the sugar and milk, and then helped himself to one of the two sausage cakes left and a slice of hot bread.
He had got about half-way through Martha’s appetising cake and had taken three good half-moon bites out of a slice of hot bread, thinking deeply the while, and munching mechanically with his mouth full, but quite unconscious of the flavour of that which he ate, when the door was thrown open and Bella entered, making the boy jump and feel more guilty than ever.
“It’s only me, Master Waller. I have just come to see how you are getting on,” continued the girl, as she advanced towards the table, scanning everything that it held, “and whether I can—oh, my!” she burst out, snatching up her apron and holding it to her mouth to try and stifle back an immoderate burst of laughter.
The next moment she had rushed out of the room, this time allowing the door to bang behind her, while Waller jumped up, staring hard at the partly closed bookcase door as if to read there the cause of the girl’s quick exit.
“She must have been watching at the keyhole,” he muttered to himself, for a guilty conscience needs no accuser, “and she’s gone to tell cook.”
But it was something quite different that Bella was telling her fellow-servant, after throwing herself down in one of the kitchen chairs and laughing hysterically till she cried and choked.
“Oh, don’t be such a stupid,” grunted plump Martha, standing over her and thumping her back. “What is it you have seen? Don’t keep it all to yourself. What are you laughing at? You will have a fit directly.”
“Oh! oh! oh–h–oh!” sobbed Bella. “Do leave off, cook. You hurt.”