"Mr. Walker tole me he thought of takin' the place for a year," said Mrs. Jackson.
"Indeed. I'll ask him at lunch. I've wasted the morning, so I'll stay another night, and start early to-morrow. You'll find me a bed in the cottage, won't you, Mrs. Jackson?"
"Mebbe, Mr. Armathwaite will be vexed," said Betty, making a half-hearted effort to carry out the compact between herself and her employer.
"Leave Mr. Armathwaite to me," laughed Marguérite. "He's a bear, and he growls, but he has no claws, not for women, at any rate. No one could be nicer than he last night. I felt an awful fool, and looked it, too; but he didn't say a single word to cause me any embarrassment. Moreover, he intends crossing the moor with me, and I can't let him get lost in the dark. Men have died who were lost on that moor."
"Oh, but that's in the winter, miss, when the snow's deep," said Betty.
"Why, I do believe you want to get rid of me!" cried the other.
Betty flushed guiltily. She was floundering in deep waters, and struck out blindly.
"Oh, no, miss," she vowed. "You know me better than that. P'raps you'll be gettin' married one of these days, an' then you can please yourself, an' live here."
"Married! Me get married, and leave dad and mums! Oh, dear no! One young man has asked me already, and I—"
"Betty," said a voice from the doorway leading to the hall, "can you give me a duster?"