“Yes, darling; I’ll do what I can. By the way, Evelyn, you ought not to have let that poor Miss Sylvia come up here and go off by herself.”
Evelyn pouted.
“I won’t be scolded,” she said. “You forget your place, Jasper. If you go on like this it might really be best for you to go.”
“Oh, I meant nothing,” said Jasper, in some alarm; “only it did seem—you will forgive my saying it—not too kind.”
“I like Sylvia,” said Evelyn; “she is handsome and she says funny things. I mean to see a good deal more of her. Now I am sleepy, so you may help me to get into bed.”
The spoilt child slept in unconscious bliss, and the next morning, awaking late, desired Jasper to fetch her breakfast. Jasper rang the bell. After a time a servant appeared.
“Will you send Miss Wynford’s breakfast up immediately?” said Jasper.
The girl, a neat-looking housemaid, withdrew. She tapped at the door again in a few minutes.
“If you please, Miss Jasper,” she said, “Lady Frances’s orders are that Miss Evelyn is to get up to breakfast.”
Jasper, with a slight smirk on her face, went into Evelyn’s bedroom to retail this message. Evelyn’s face turned the color of chalk with intense anger.