She was quickly retracing her steps back to her own room, when she met Harriet again in the corridor.
"I was just coming for you, miss," she said, "thinking that you might not be able to find your way, after all, there are so many twists and turns hereabouts," and without further ado she quickly retraced her steps, nodding to Jessie to follow.
The breakfast-room into which she was ushered was by far the most commodious room in the house.
A great, square apartment with ceilings and panelings of solid oak, massive side-boards, which contained the family silver for fully a century or more, great, high-backed chairs with heavy carvings, done up in leather, and a polished, inlaid floor, with here and there a velvet rug or tiger's skin.
The old lady was seated at the table as Harriet ushered in the young girl. She smiled, and nodded a welcome. Opposite her sat a little old man with large ears, who peered at her sharply from over a pair of double-barreled, gold-rimmed eyeglasses.
"This is the young person whom I have just engaged as my companion," said Mrs. Bassett, shrilly, turning toward her husband.
"H'm!" ejaculated the old gentleman. "What did you say this young woman's name was?"
"Bain," she replied.
"Hey?" he exclaimed, holding his right hand trumpet fashion, to his ear. "Give me the name a little louder."
"Miss Bain— Jessie Bain!" shouted his wife, in an ear-splitting voice that made every nerve in Jessie's body throb and quiver.