“No, I haven’t,” said Loveday.
“Oh, how you do worry! Here, take mine!”
Loveday pounced on it gladly, and began to rub the legs of a chair.
“I think mother will be surprised to see the carpet so well swept. Won’t she?” said Priscilla contentedly.
“Yes; and to see everything so well dusted. P’r’aps the guests will notice it, too, and will say, ‘Here, Mrs. Carlyon, is sixpence for the person who dusts your room so well.’”
But Priscilla scouted the idea with the utmost scorn.
“As if they would!” she cried. “Why, you silly child, people don’t say things about other people’s rooms, not even if they aren’t dusted at all. Of course, you can dust easy things like chairs, but I’ll have to do the vases, and all the—take care, Loveday, the door is opening; oh, do mind your head!” and Loveday stepped back just in time to allow the door to be opened a little way. “Who is there? You can’t come in yet,” cried Priscilla.
But the door opened wider, and Nurse’s agonised face appeared, and behind her, gazing amazedly at Priscilla through a haze of dust, stood Lady Carey.
“Miss Priscilla! Oh, what are you doing? Oh, you naughty, naughty, mischievous children!” cried Nurse, horrified, and not knowing what to do, or which to attend to first. “Excuse me, ma’am,” she said, turning to the visitor, “but—but—oh, what can I do? The guests will all be coming in a few minutes, and the room is like this!”
Lady Carey smiled.