“I don’t know either. Oh, yes, though, they had tea in the garden with the Misses Carter and young Mr Carter, and then they went a bit of the way home with them. I ran down the garden and brought in the best china, they would have it from the drawing room, and then I slipped out, for I didn’t want to lose any of my time. It was such a good opportunity, you see, Miss, for master and Mr Horace were both dining out at the Club this evening, and I thought the young ladies could manage to light up for themselves.”
“They don’t seem to have done so. How is my mother? How long has she been alone?”
“I don’t know, Miss. Shall I run up and see?”
“No, light up as quickly as you can, please. Get cook to help you if necessary. Don’t be out of the way. I will go to my mother.”
Marcia had called Mrs Aldworth mother on many occasions; but there was a new tone in the way in which she said “my mother,” which fell upon the servant’s ears with a feeling of reproach.
“I wonder now—” she thought. “I wouldn’t have gone out, but she was in such a beautiful sleep; I just crept in on tiptoe and there she was smiling in her sleep and looking as happy as happy could be. So I said to myself—‘Miss Nesta’ll be in in no time, and if not there are the other young ladies.’ So I went to cook and said—‘Cook, be sure you run up to Missis when she rings her bell.’”
Susan had now returned to the kitchen.
“You didn’t hear Missis ring by any chance, did you, Fanny?” she said to her fellow servant.
“No, I said I’d go up to her if she did ring.”
“Then it’s all right,” said Susan.