“Does Lady Ruxley remain in town most of the year?” she asked, before giving her answer.
“Oh, no. I ought to have mentioned that we all leave town in a few weeks for our country seat in Kent County, where Lady Ruxley has a house of her own, preferring to live alone rather than endure the noise and confusion of Vallingham Hall. Do you object to the country?”
“Oh, no, I like it.”
This intelligence relieved Brownie greatly, for she felt as if she could scarcely endure to live in the same house with this woman.
“It may be a little lonely for you at first,” Lady Randal added, “but aunt frequently pays a visit at the Hall, for she likes to know what is going on in the world, I assure you, if she does live alone with her servants most of the time.”
“I will accept this position, Lady Randal, and if I can make Lady Ruxley’s life more pleasant than it has been I shall be very thankful,” Brownie said, gravely, yet a little proudly.
She did not fancy her visitor’s patronizing, almost insolent manner, and inwardly resented her bold, fixed stare.
“Very well, then we will call the matter settled,” Lady Randal replied, rising, and infinitely relieved that she had been able to secure a companion for her troublesome aunt, though she thought the girl a “proud minx.”
She left her with a cool good-morning, and the young girl seemed to breathe freer the moment the door closed after her.
A month later they were settled in that gem of a villa, near Vallingham Hall.