"She went over with Fletcher, no doubt. That's how his lordship's interests are served in his absence. Is Molly in the 'ouse, James?"
"She was takin' her singin' lesson from the horganist of Moretown half an hour ago."
"Let her sing upstairs with the warmin' pan, and quick about it too. I suppose the shuffer's not in?"
"Gone to Derby to see Mr. Wilson Barrett eat up by lions——"
"Then we'll have to send Williams, the groom, and make a tale. Lord, what a 'ouse to look after. I feel sometimes as such responsibulness will break me up into small coal, James. Just ring that bell and send Molly here. I'll give her a singin' lesson as she won't soon forget."
There never was such a ringing of bells, certainly never such a scampering of overfed menials as the next hour witnessed at the Manor. Hither and thither they went: Molly up the stairs to look out the sheets, Williams, the groom, to get the single brougham ready, James to set the boudoir straight ("with me own 'ands I done it," he said to Partigan, the lady's maid, afterwards, as though ordinary he did it with other people's hands, which was a true word), Griggs to put away his decanter and enter the kitchen in mighty splendor. Not only this, but stable-boys upon bicycles went flying off to Matlock and Derby to bear the tidings to the absentees.
"Her ladyship a-comin' home," said Partigan when she heard it; "well, that do beat the best!"
"I've always said," Griggs remarked to James, when the first moments of agitation had passed, "I've always said the Lady Evelyn isn't ordinary. Just look at the antics she'd be a-doin' by herself when she thought no one was lookin' at her in the park. Carrying on like a play actress, she was, and me hidin' behind a tree, mortal feared of her throwin' of herself into my arms by mistake. What his lordship would say if I told him of this 'ere, the cherubims above us only knows, James."
"You surely ain't goin' to tell him, Mr. Griggs?"
Griggs tapped his breast with a heavy fist that seemed to make a drum of it.