Jasper, looking slightly excited, now appeared on the scene.
“Well, my darling!” she said. She rushed up to Evelyn and clasped her in her arms. “Oh, my own sweet Eve, and how are you getting on?” she exclaimed. “I am thinking this is not the place for you.”
“We will talk of that another time, please, Jasper,” said Evelyn, with unwonted dignity. “I have brought a friend to lunch with me. This young lady is called Miss Sylvia Leeson, and she is awfully hungry, and we’d both like a big lunch in this room. Can you smuggle things up, Jasper?”
“Her ladyship will be mad,” exclaimed Jasper. “I was told in the servants’ hall that she was downright annoyed at your not going to breakfast; if you are not at lunch she will move heaven and earth.”
“Let her; it will be fun,” said Evelyn. “I am going to lunch here with my friend Sylvia Leeson. Bring a lot of things up, Jasper—good things, rich things, tempting things; you know what sort I like.”
“I’ll try if there is a bit of pork and some mincepies and plum-pudding and cream and such-like down-stairs. And you’d fancy your chocolate, would you not?”
“Rather! Get all you can, and be as quick as ever you can.”
Jasper accordingly withdrew, and in a short time appeared with a laden tray in her hands.
“I had to run the gauntlet of the footman and the butler too; and what they will tell Lady Frances goodness knows, but I do not,” answered Jasper. “But there, if things have to come to a crisis, why, they must. You will not forget me when the storm breaks, will you, Evelyn?”
“I’ll never forget you,” said Evelyn, with enthusiasm. “You are the dearest and darlingest thing left now that mothery is in heaven; and Sylvia will love you too. I have been telling her all about you.—Now, Sylvia, you will not be hungry long.”