“You like her as well as I do, Anne.”
“This morning I found him in the drawing-room; alone, for a wonder: he was gazing up in his abstracted way, as if wanting to discover what the pinnacles of the cathedral were made of, which appear to be so close, you know, from the windows of that room. ‘Papa, you are lonely,’ I said. ‘Would you like to walk out?—or what would you like to do?’ ‘My dear, Mrs. Podd will see to it all,’ he answered; ‘don’t trouble yourself; I am waiting for her.’ It is just as though he had no more need of me.”
Anne Lewis turned away to hide her wet eyelashes. For my part, I thought the sooner Mrs. Captain Podd betook herself from Lake’s boarding-house, the better. It was too much of a good thing.
That same afternoon I heard some conversation not meant for me. Behind the house was a square patch of ground called a garden, containing a few trees and some sweet herbs. I was sitting on the bench there, underneath the high, old-fashioned dining-room windows, thinking how hot the sun was, wishing for something to do, and wondering when Dr. Lewis meant to send me home. He and Mrs. Podd were out together; Anne was in the kitchen, teaching Mrs. Lake some mysteries of French cookery. Miss Dinah sat in the dining-room, in her spectacles, darning table-cloths.
“Oh, have you come in!” I suddenly heard her say, as the door opened. And it was Mrs. Podd’s voice that answered.
“The sun is so very hot: poor dear Dr. Lewis felt quite ill. He has gone up to his room for half-an-hour to sit quietly in the shade. Where are my girls?”
“I’m sure I don’t know,” replied Miss Dinah: and it struck me that her tone of voice was rather crusty. “Mrs. Podd, I must again ask you when you will let me have some money?”
“As soon as I can,” said Mrs. Podd: who seemed by the sound, to have thrown herself upon a chair, and to be fanning her face with a rustling newspaper.
“But you have said that for some weeks. When is the ‘soon’ to be?”