Then a knock came to the door. I started and turned round. It was only the old butler. I felt just as if a bucket of lukewarm water had been emptied on me,—deep disappointment, why I felt so I can't tell. He wanted to know if I required anything more to eat—supper.
No, I required nothing to eat.
He stood shuffling at the door as if he wanted to say something, his dismal old face looked more troubled than ever. I thought for a moment he was going to cry. Then suddenly he shut the door and came across the room. He stood before me, twiddling a book that lay on a little table. He looked at the carpet, then at the fire, then at me, then he spoke—
"I have been in the service of the family forty and nine years, ma'am."
"Have you?" I answered, I didn't know what else to say.
"Forty and nine years come next October. Oh, ma'am, I've seen strange things in those years, and—the world's a strange place."
"Ma'am, Miss Geraldine knows you are here, and she will come in to see you presently."
"Miss Geraldine—was—was that the young lady—I mean, was it she who arrived in the carriage just now?"
"It was, ma'am, and that's why I want to tell you. Mr James told me to tell you; it's only beknownst to Mr James and I—God help me—God help us all—Miss Geraldine—is a boy."