'Kindly reserve your jocosity for a more appropriate season, Miss Cobb.
Young ladies, you may proceed with your matutinal duties.'
CHAPTER VIII.
AT THE LOCK-HOUSE.
Miss Pew had argued rightly that the process of packing would not be a long one with Ida Palliser. The girl had come to Mauleverer with the smallest number of garments compatible with decency; and her stock had been but tardily and scantily replenished during her residence in that manorial abode. It was to her credit that she had contrived still to be clean, still to be neat, under such adverse conditions; it was Nature's royal gift that she had looked grandly beautiful in the shabbiest gowns and mantles ever seen at Mauleverer.
She huddled her poor possessions into her solitary trunk—a battered hair trunk which had done duty ever since she came as a child from India. She put a few necessaries into a convenient morocco bag, which the girls in her class had clubbed their pocket-money to present to her on her last birthday; and then she washed the traces of angry tears from her face, put on her hat and jacket, and went downstairs, carrying her bag and umbrella.
One of the housemaids met her in the hall, a buxom, good-natured country girl.
'Is it true that you are going to leave us, miss?' she asked.
'What! you all know it already?' exclaimed Ida.
'Everybody is talking about it, miss. The young ladies are all on your side; but they dare not speak up before Miss Pew.'
'I suppose not. Yes, it is quite true; I am expelled, Eliza; sent out into the world without a character, because I allowed Mr. Wendover to walk and talk with the Fräulein and me for half an hour or so in the river-meadow! Mr. Wendover, my best, my only friend's first cousin. Rather hard, isn't it?'