“You mean, ma’am, that we old people are to settle the matter as to what is best for the young folks?”
“Yes, yes, that is right.”
“And what will the young folks say?”
Mrs Rolph hesitated for a moment or two.
“We cannot stop to consult them, my good man, when we are working for their good. Now, look here, Hayle; of course it will put you to a good deal of inconvenience, for which I am sorry, and to meet that difficulty I went back to my room and wrote this.” She took a cheque from her little reticule. “It is for fifty pounds, Hayle; it will cover all your expenses till you obtain another appointment. Why, Benjamin Hayle, how long have you been in our service?”
“A many years, ma’am,” said the keeper gravely; and then he read the cheque over as Mrs Rolph placed it in his hands. “Ah! ‘Pay to Benjamin Hayle or bearer, fifty pounds.—Constantia Rolph.’ A good deal of money, ma’am. And now, I think I’ll call Judith down.”
“Yes—yes, do. I must say a few words to her. Poor girl, I wish her well.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” said the keeper quietly.
“Yes: it is not all her fault.”
“Judith—Judith, my girl,” said the keeper, opening the door at the foot of the stairs. “Come down.”