"Yes?" Anthony remarked, for again Meg paused.
"So I just walked out of the front door. No
one saw me, and the station was across the road, and I went right in and asked when there was a train to London, and there was one going in five minutes; so I took a ticket and came straight here, for I knew somehow, even if you were all away, Hannah would let me stay ... just to-night. I knew she would ..." and Meg began to sob feebly.
And, as if in response to the mention of her name, Hannah appeared, bearing a tray with tea upon it. Hannah was short and square; she stumped as she walked, and she carried a tray very high and stately, as though it were a sacrifice. As she came in Meg rose and hastily moved to the window, standing there with her back to the room.
"I thocht," said Hannah, as though challenging somebody to contradict her, "that Miss Morton would be the better for an egg to her tea. She looks just like a bit soap after a hard day's washing."
"I had no lunch," said a muffled, apologetic voice from the window.
"Come away, then, and take yer tea," Hannah said sharply. "Young leddies should have more sense than go fasting so many hours."
As it was evident that Hannah had no intention of leaving the room till she saw Meg sitting at the table, the girl came back and sat down.
"See that she gets her tea, sir," she said in a low, admonitory voice to Anthony. "She's pretty far through."
The tray was set at the end of the table. Anthony came and sat down behind it.