“Where’s the child?” she burst out.
“She has not come home yet,” replied Harriet, with composure. “I was waiting here for her.”
“Come home from where? Where is she?”
“At Lady Godolphin’s Folly. But Mrs. Pain has never kept her so late as this before.”
“She’s there! With Mrs. Pain?” shrieked Margery.
“She has been there every day this week. Mrs Pain has either come or sent for her. Look there,” added Harriet, pointing to a collection of toys in a corner of the nursery. “She has brought home all those things. Mrs. Pain loads her with them.”
Margery answered not a word. She blew out her candle, and went downstairs to the dining-room. Maria, her things never taken off, was sitting just as she had come in, apparently lost in thought. She rose up when Margery entered, and began untying her bonnet.
“Harriet says that the child’s at Mrs. Pain’s: that she has been there all the week,” began Margery, without circumlocution.
“Yes,” replied Maria. “I cannot think why she has not come home. Mrs. Pain——”
“And you could let her go there, ma’am!” interrupted Margery’s indignant voice, paying little heed or deference to what her mistress might be saying. “There! If anybody had come and told it to me before this night, I would not have believed it.”