“Most of these apartments have not been in use since my aunt died,” Carlyon explained.
“Why in the name of heaven did no one put the chairs under holland covers?” exclaimed Elinor, her housewifely instincts quite revolted. “Good God, what a task you have set me, my lord!”
“I know very little about these matters, but I imagine you will have your hands full.” He added, “That may keep you from indulging your fancy with thoughts of headless specters.”—She cast him a very speaking look and preceded him into the apartment which had been prepared for her use. This at least showed signs of having been scrubbed and polished, and, since it faced south, the pale spring sunlight came in through the leaded windowpanes and gave it a cheerful aspect. Elinor took off her bonnet and her pelisse and laid them down on the bed. “Well, at all events, Mrs. Barrow showed her good sense in her choice of bedchamber for me,” she observed. “And who, by the by, is the young wench you brought over from the Hall, my lord?”
“I do not know her name, but Mrs. Rugby thought that she would prove a suitable and an obliging maid for you. You will of course engage what servants you deem necessary, but in the meantime this girl is here to wait on you.”
She was touched by this thought for her comfort, but merely said, “You are very good, my lord. But, regarding the servants you have recommended me to engage, pray, how are their wages to be paid?”
“They will be paid out of the estate,” he returned indifferently.
“But, as I collect, sir, that the estate is already grossly encumbered—”
“It need not concern you. There will be funds enough to cover such necessary expense.”
“Oh!” she said, a little doubtfully.
They were interrupted. “There had ought to be the hatchment up over the door,” said Barrow severely.