"Have you been in there again, Ownie?"
"Yes," she said, pulling the rocking-chair to the fire; "it wasn't very long, was it? He wants us to go to his concert next week at the Albert Hall; he'd like us to stay the night at an hotel. Of course we should be his guests, and it would be a nice change. I told him I'd speak to you about it."
"Sleep in town at an hotel? Oh no, dear, I shouldn't think of such a thing! Whatever for?"
"Because he has invited us, because he's going to sing. I said I didn't think you'd go for the night, but we might run away in time to catch the last train. I don't much care about going alone—though he wants me to do that, if you won't come."
"Wants you to go alone?" She made a blot, and put down the pen. "Wants you to go alone, as his guest?" she repeated.
"Yes; why shouldn't I? Still, if you'll come too——"
"How can I go and leave everything to look after itself? Besides, it wouldn't be right. As to your going alone, that would be worse still. I'm sure I don't see——"
"Don't see what?"
Mrs. Tremlett hesitated. "Don't you think the servants will begin to talk?" she murmured. "You know what I mean, dear; you're up there so much—and he's always sending you things. Of course I shouldn't like him to leave, but it's a pity he doesn't see that he oughtn't to——Well, I'm sure the servants are talking! When I wanted you just now about the deposit on the bottles, Ada said, 'Oh, she's with Mr. Lee, ma'am—I'd better not call her out.' I could see what she thought, though I pretended not to notice anything."
"What did she think?"