The caretaker smiled, when she saw who stood on the doorstep.
“Why ma’am, I thought you was never coming again to play on the piano; I have missed it, that I have. It makes the old place seem that cheerful—I can almost fancy it’s my poor young mistress come back again. She used to sit and play on that piano, by the hour together.”
“I am glad you have enjoyed it,” said Hadria gently. The blinds were pulled up in the drawing-room, the piano was uncovered, the windows thrown open to the terrace.
“You haven’t had much time for playing since your mamma has been ill,” the woman continued, dusting the keys and setting up the music-rest.
“To-day my mother has a visitor; Mrs. Joseph Fleming is spending the afternoon with her,” said Hadria.
“To be sure, ma’am, to be sure, a nice young lady, and so cheerful,” said the good woman, bustling off to wind up the tall old clock with the wise-looking face, that had been allowed to run down since Hadria’s last visit. “Seems more cheerful like,” observed the caretaker, as the steady tick-tack began to sound through the quiet room.
“And have you fed my birds regularly, Mrs. Williams?” asked Hadria, taking off her hat and standing at the open window looking out to the terrace.
“Yes indeed, ma’am, every day, just as you used to do when you came yourself. And they has got so tame; they almost eats out of my hand.”
“And my robin? I hope he has not deserted us.”
“Oh, no, he comes right into the room sometimes and hops about, just as he did that afternoon, the last time you was here! I think it’s the same bird, for he likes to perch on that table and pick up the crumbs.”