CHAPTER III. CONTRARY TO THE REGULATIONS OF HER MAJESTY'S POST-OFFICE.
SORELY did the fat coachman, who had no neck, inveigh against that caprice of his mistress which compelled his appearance at the front door upon the ensuing morning at an hour so altogether unexampled. If he had but heard that it was all upon the account of Mistress Forest, and the outlandish fellow who wore little gold rings in his ears, and that curly heard, so like the door-mat of the servants-hall, it is doubtful whether he would have obeyed such a premature behest at all; but as it was, he was sitting on the coach-box with the sleek nags before him, at the foot of the great steps which led down from the entrance-hall, at six o'clock to a minute. It was broad daylight of course, so bright that it made him wink again, as it flashed upon the glittering harness and the shining skins of the pampered beasts; but still it was not a time for a man of his years and girth to be hurried up and made to toil. “As late as you please at night, my Lady, and nobody ever heard Joe Wiggins utter a murmur,” muttered he; “but there's no constitushun as can stand such wear and tear as this.”
However that might be with Mr Wiggins, Miss Rose Aynton seemed to make uncommonly light of early rising, for, much to the astonishment of her hostess, she was up and dressed and in the breakfast-room when that lady made her appearance at half-past five.
“I happened to hear that you were going-out betimes, dear Lady Lisgard,” said she with her sweetest smile; “and getting up in these first summer mornings is such a treat to a poor London-bred girl like me; so, without saying a word to dearest Letty, I thought I would just fill her place for once, and make your coffee for you.”
“Thank you, Rose,” returned my Lady a little stiffly, for she had not intended that anybody, and far less one who was not a member of her own family, should have been a witness to her departure. “I have unpleasant business on hand which takes me to Dalwynch before the morning train starts.”
“If you are going to London,” began Rose hesitatingly, as if intending to send something by my Lady's hands to her aunt, “if it was not too much trouble”——“I am not going to London,” replied Lady Lisgard quietly. “I shall be back by the usual breakfast-hour, I have no doubt.”
Here my Lady sipped her coffee with the air of a connoisseur, and perceiving Miss Aynton was about to ask more questions, requested a little sugar; then a fresh supply of—no, not hot milk—some cream. Would the carriage never come round, and release her from this importunate girl.
“How glad the people will be to see you about again once more, Lady Lisgard,” observed Miss Aynton cheerfully. “You can't imagine how curious they have been to know why you have shut yourself up so long.”
“I was not aware that my movements were any business of theirs, Rose,” returned my Lady with severity, “nor, indeed, of anybody's except myself.”