“She would like me to leave at once,” thought the girl. “But Michael—dear Michael: he at least will be true to his word. Oh, what am I to do! I hate beyond everything in the world staying here—staying on with her when she can look at me like that. Is it my fault that I am poor! I think that I am very cruelly treated.”
Tears rushed to her eyes. She stayed for a time in her room, then finished her dressing. She went downstairs to breakfast. To her surprise Mrs Fortescue was not in the room. After a moment’s hesitation, she rang the bell. Bridget appeared.
“What is it, missie?” she asked.
“I want my breakfast, please,” said Florence.
“My missis sent to tell you that there were no fresh eggs in the house, so that perhaps you would do with the cold ham. I don’t see why fresh eggs should not be bought for you, but those were her orders, I’ll make you some new coffee, nice and strong, and bring it in, in a few minutes.”
Florence laughed. Her laughter was almost satirical. In a short time, Bridget came in with the coffee and a bone of ham which had been cut very bare.
“I can’t make out,” said Bridget, “what is the matter with my missis. I never saw anybody in such a raging temper.”
“But where is she?” asked Florence.
“Oh, gone out, my dear—gone out. She has been out nearly an hour.”
“Did she eat any breakfast?” asked Florence.