The new mistress left her in this pleasing delusion, and lay back upon her pillows with a sigh. If she could but have the whole day in bed, she thought wistfully. A long day's rest, after her good sleep, would set her up once more. At this moment her one desire was to snuggle down in the safe refuge of the bedclothes, and remain there utterly passive and inert.
She appeared, however, punctually in the dining-room when the gong for breakfast sounded.
The meal was set in the old-fashioned way, the tea and coffee service before the mistress, the hot dishes at the other end.
Gaunt was standing with an open newspaper in his hand near the window.
"Well," he said, "did you sleep?"
"Yes, thank you, I did."
She came up and shook hands. He eyed her keenly. This was the first time he had seen her in morning dress. Her white linen was simple and fresh, and she was daintily neat; but there were blue shadows under the melting eyes, and a sad droop of the mouth which spoke of dejection.
"Come, sit down, and pour out my coffee," he said, limping quickly to his own place. "We have much to get through to-day. You must go and see Mrs. Wells, and give the orders for the day." He added, with his "bad smile": "If you are not very good at housekeeping, I don't envy you. She will think very small beer of you."
"It is two years since I had the management of a large house," was the gentle reply, "but I do not think I have forgotten. London housekeeping would seem more difficult to me."
He looked at her, puzzled. "But your mother kept house at Lissendean, I presume?"