“You funny dear, I never heard of anything so quaint! It was sweet of you all the same, and I’m ever so grateful. But, oh dear! what would the servants say if they knew! They would think my relations had come out of the Ark. And where in the world have you put the provisions?”
“I—I—” Bridgie looked round for Pixie, but she had lingered behind, and there was no one to help her out of her plight. “I had the basket in my hand, and we were standing at the door, and I heard you calling and I rushed in. I gave it to someone. I was in such a hurry I hardly noticed who it was. I think it was the man in the dining-room now!”
“Montgomery!” echoed Esmeralda blankly. She stood staring at Bridgie with horrified eyes. “Bridgie, how could you? What do you mean by it? What did you bring, and how was it made up?”
“A chicken, and pies, and apples, and a tin of toffee. Everything you liked—and some little rolls and a pot of butter. They were in a basket—a big basket with a serviette over the top!” cried Bridgie, with desperate candour, determined to tell the worst at once and get it over.
At home at Rutland Road it had seemed such a simple and natural thing to do, but ten minutes’ experience of Park Lane had shown clearly enough how unnecessary had been her anxiety, how ridiculous it must seem in the estimation of the household! She looked at Esmeralda with troubled eyes, and Esmeralda flushed, and cried testily—
“A basket of provisions, and you handed it to Montgomery! He would think, of course, that it was his duty to open it, and— Oh, Bridgie, how could you? He will tell the story in the servants’ hall, and they will all laugh and make fun. It’s too tiresome! I can’t think how you can have made such a mistake!”
“I thought of you, you see, and not of the servants. It never occurred to my mind that you could be ashamed of me, whatever I did!” said Bridgie quietly.
“I’m not in the least ashamed of you, I’m ashamed of the basket! You ask Jack when you go home, and he’ll tell you ’twas a foolish thing to do, and you walking, too, and not driving to the door. We won’t talk about it any more, or we shall both get angry, and it’s done now and can’t be helped. What do you think of this room? Geoffrey is quite proud of his books, and we mean to make this our private little den, and retire here when we are tired of living in public. Here’s the electric light, you see, switched on to these movable lamps, so that one can read comfortably in any position!”
“Very nice! So convenient! It looks most comfortable!”
Bridgie’s voice sounded formal and ill-at-ease, and both sisters felt the position a trifle strained, and were unaffectedly relieved to see Pixie strolling towards them at this critical minute.