“You will have your breakfast in bed,” said Pikey grimly.
Flown by success, Miss Cass did her best to bring a steady eye to bear upon the maid.
“I have already arranged to do so,” she said with a very fair approximation to the manner of the admired Miss Pond. She was still in deadly fear of the Dragon, but she must neglect no opportunity of putting her in her place.
“Oh, you have,” said Pikey, more grimly than ever. The Miss-Pond-manner had left her cold. “And you may have to stay in bed for luncheon as well.”
“But——” For the moment Girlie was not able to proceed beyond that ineffective monosyllable. Pikey was “undoing her at the back” and even this mild protest earned her a decidedly savage shake.
“It’s like this,” Pikey ominously explained. “I’m going over to The Laurels the first thing in the morning and it’s the best part of four miles away, so Mrs. Bletsoe the housekeeper tells me. And you’ve got to stop in bed till I come back.”
“But——” Miss No-Class protested.
“Let down your hair.” Of a sudden the Werewolf took a most formidable long-handled brush from the dressing table for all the world as if it had been a birch rod.
Miss Cass could not repress a tremor of fear as she withdrew the pins and the charming ribbon.
“You’ll stay in bed till I return.”