“Perfect,” she answered; “I never want to leave it.”
“Heaven forbid!” he cried; “that would mean that you were ill, which would never do. I am glad you like this room, but wait until you see the rest of the house.”
“I am almost too happy,” said the girl, and she breathed a sigh, the depth of which nearly reached the point of pain.
“What, because you have got a pretty room, little one?” he replied.
He kissed her and went off to his dressing-room, whistling as he went.
Hester came to summon Nance, and in a few moments the young wife found herself divested of her travelling things, her hair rearranged in the most becoming style, and her evening dress put on. She scarcely knew herself when she was arrayed for the evening, without having lifted a finger on her own behalf.
“After all a maid is a comfort when one is dead tired,” she could not help thinking. Her instinct was to pick up and put by her own things, but Hester, who seemed to divine her intention, swept them out of sight with an almost peremptory gesture.
“You may be sure I’ll do my best to try and please you, ma’am,” she said in a soft voice.
Nance murmured her thanks and went downstairs.
“She is a chit of a thing,” muttered the girl when her mistress had turned her back. “I can twist her round my little finger, particularly when I make use of some very private information, which will considerably alter the complexion of things for pretty Mrs. Rowton, or I am greatly mistaken.”