"Mama," she said, going back into the sitting-room where her mother awaited her, "behold I am not a child any longer. I am grown up."
CHAPTER XXXI
Bessie's Hour
For the best part of the week, Mrs. Day, attending in the vague and preoccupied manner which had been hers since Franky's death to her few customers, marvelled greatly and with supreme uneasiness of mind about Mr. Boult. He took no notice of her letter, he did not come to the house. "He is too much offended," she said to herself, wondering what form the vengeance she anticipated would take.
At length, unable to keep silence any longer on the subject, she questioned Bessie.
"I hope Mr. Boult was not very much annoyed at my leaving him on Thursday,
Bessie?"
"He didn't say he was," said Bessie, pertly.
"But was he? You could judge from his manner, surely?"
"If you ask me, then, I don't think he cared a ha'penny."
"I wrote to him, you know, Bessie."