With which command, she left the astonished Minnett and hobbled away to find Brownie and impart the news to her.
Brownie, as soon as she had removed her wrappings, repaired to the conservatory, and was greatly surprised when she heard Lady Ruxley’s cane come clinking over the tiled floor, supposing her to be snug in bed, and enjoying the delights of a rousing rum-sweat—her favorite remedy for colds and rheumatics.
“I thought I should find you here,” her ladyship said, as Brownie arose quickly and came forward to lead her to a chair. “You like birds and flowers, don’t you?” she added, keenly regarding the lovely, smiling face and sparkling eyes.
“Yes, my lady, I am exceedingly fond of them. But are you not imprudent to come here, where it is so damp, with your cold?” she asked, as she seated her and placed a hassock at her feet. She was ever tenderly mindful of her comfort.
“No, no, child; I’m all right now I am home again. I never feel well when I’m visiting—that is,” she hastened to add “in strange places. It did you good, though; you have more color, and look brighter.”
“Yes, I am much better than when I first came to West Malling,” Brownie admitted, with a conscious blush.
“Yes, the trip to the castle did you much good, undoubtedly,” persisted her ladyship, nodding and chuckling knowingly.
“It was a change, you know.”
“Yes, yes; that’s it. Young folks need change. I was a fool not to think of it before. I might have known that a young, bright thing like you would droop and pine, hived up with a croning old owl like me for company.”
“Pray, dear Lady Ruxley, do not talk so!” Brownie interrupted, eagerly, and much distressed at her words. “Indeed, I have been very happy with you—much more so than I was during the five months previous.”