“God bless you both, darlings!” But Mrs Fortescue only gazed at them severely from behind a wire blind.
She was thinking that there would be a good riddance at Langdale, and was comfortably feeling her purse, which was heavy with some money which Mr Timmins had paid her in person on the previous night. Yes, she had got rid of the Heathcotes; she must now find other girls to devote herself to with all a mother’s care.
Bridget entered the room with her mistress’ breakfast.
“Did you see the young ladies, madam?” she asked.
“What young ladies?” asked Mrs Fortescue.
“Our young ladies, madam—the Misses Heathcote. They’ve gone, both of them, poor darlings!”
“It’s a very good thing they have gone,” said Mrs Fortescue, in a severe voice. “They were quite nice girls, but were unfortunately brought up to deceive other people. They are now going to begin the battle of life in earnest, and I, for my part, am glad of it. They have plenty of faults, and will, I fear, find the lessons of life hard to learn.”
“Oh, madam,” said Bridget, “I never saw any one so good-natured as Miss Florence was about that ham bone—”
“That will do,” said her mistress. “I expect,” she added, “other young ladies to come and stay with me before long, and trust that you will exert yourself to cook well and to look after their interests.”
“I was going to say, madam,” said Bridget demurely, “that now that Miss Florence and Miss Brenda have gone, I should wish to give a month’s notice.”