There was disclosed a room of good size, evidently at one time a living-room, now converted to the combined offices of kitchen and dining-room. A large deal table in the middle of the floor was covered with a turkey-red cloth, with places set for four. On a small range in the recess of what had once been an open fireplace, sad-irons were heating side by side with simmering pots and a steaming tea-kettle. There was a rich aroma of cooking in the air, somewhat tinctured by the smell of melting wax, but in spite of that madly appetising to the nostrils of a young woman made suddenly aware that she had not eaten for some sixteen hours. The furnishings of the room were simple and characteristic of country kitchens—including even the figure of the sturdy woman placidly ironing white things on a board near the open door.
She looked up quickly as Eleanor entered, stopped her humming, smote the board vigorously with the iron and set the latter on a metal rest.
“Evening,” she said pleasantly, resting her hands on her hips.
Eleanor stared dumbly, remembering that this was the woman who had helped her to bed and had administered what had presumably been a second sleeping draught.
“Thought I heard you moving around upstairs. How be you? Hungry? I’ve got a bite ready.”
“I’d like a drink of water, please,” said Eleanor—“plain water,” she added with a significance that could not have been overlooked by a guilty conscience.
But the woman seemed to sense no ulterior meaning. “I’ll fetch it,” she said in a good-humoured voice, going to the sink.
While she was manipulating the pump, the girl moved nearer, frankly taking stock of her. The dim impression retained from their meeting in the early morning was merely emphasised by this second inspection; the woman was built on generous lines—big-boned, heavy and apparently immensely strong. A contented and easy-going humour shone from her broad, coarsely featured countenance, oddly contending with a suggestion of implacable obstinacy and tenacious purpose.
“Here you are,” she said presently, extending a glass filmed with the breath of the ice-cold liquid it contained.
“Thank you,” said Eleanor; and drank thirstily. “Who are you?” she demanded point blank, returning the glass.