"Mark my words," he laughed. "You will feel this night in your bones longer than I. By the way, no matter who goes hungry, don't prepare any breakfast until I come to you. I suppose the kitchen is your headquarters?"
"Yes, though Enid has had far more of Mr. Pyne's company. She is cook, you know."
"Is Pyne there too?"
"He is laundry-maid, drying clothes."
"I think I shall like him," mused Brand. "He seems to be a helpful sort of youngster. That reminds me. Tell him to report himself to Mr. Emmett as my assistant,—if he cares for the post, that is."
He did not see the ready spirit of mischief that danced in her eyes. She pictured Mr. Pyne "fixing things" with Mr. Emmett "mighty quick."
When she reached the first bedroom floor Mrs. Vansittart had gone.
"I thought it would be strange if she stood long in this draught," mused Constance. She opened the door. The lady she sought was leaning disconsolate against a wall.
"My father—" she began.
"I fear I was thoughtless," interrupted Mrs. Vansittart. "He must be greatly occupied. Of course, I can see him in the morning before the vessel comes. They will send a ship soon to take us off?"