'What! How could you let me sleep so, and all that there is to be done?'
'There bean't no tur'ble call for 'ee to get up, Mistress Marion.'
'But there is much to be done. There are the guest chambers to be got ready for Colonel Sampson and my Aunt Keziah. My aunt said she would follow in the coach with Simone. Most likely they lay at Tavistock last night. They should be here this afternoon, if nothing has delayed them. I do want my Aunt Keziah's chamber to look beautiful, Curnow.'
The housekeeper smiled fondly at the girl she had tended from babyhood. Indeed, she had lain awake most of the night pondering on Marion's story, and trying to see her 'little maid' in the light of its revelation.
'You will like Simone, Curnow,' Marion continued. 'I told you I am going to persuade my father to let me keep her here with us, did I not? She is French, you know, but very different from——' Marion stopped abruptly.
The smile on her hearer's face gave way to the grave, unhappy look the old woman had worn of late.
'What is it, Curnow?'
'I ought to tell you, Mistress Marion. I scarce know what to do,' the housekeeper slowly began. ''Tis Mademoiselle.'
Marion handed the speaker her bowl, and lay back on the pillow. 'I know all about that,' she said quietly. Mrs. Curnow stared.
'I did not tell you last night,' pursued Marion. 'There were so many other things to tell.'