"You are a dear child," said Mrs. Townsend fervently. She wiped away a nervous tear or two.
Olive followed Jane to her room to watch her new sister exchange her morning dress for one more suitable for the affairs she meant to take in hand.
"This is going to be fun," said Jane gaily.
"I don't see how you can think so. It's certainly very foolish of mother to persist against all odds. One would think her life depended on that luncheon."
"It does--in a way. Her poor nerves are quite worn out. I 've seen it for a long time. Having things go wrong just now is the last straw."
"Why, Jane, what's going to happen?" called Shirley, five minutes later, encountering Jane on the stairs which led to the servants' rooms on the third floor. Shirley had been up to see Cook, who adored her.
"Is Bridget able to see me?" asked Jane.
"She 'll be much flattered. It's sciatica, and it lays her low, but she can converse with intelligence, even with brilliancy. She 's in a terrible state over not being able to get up that luncheon."
"I 'm going to hold a council of war with her," and Jane disappeared into Cook's room.
Half an hour later she came out again, her eyes dancing with anticipation, pencil and paper in hand. As she ran downstairs, Sophy came up with a tray, and caught the overflow of Bridget's emotions.