Evey went towards my mother; a very business-like expression came over her face.
“It’s about the laundress, Mrs Percy. Mother would be so glad to know of one at once. You see there are so many of us, it’s an important consideration. Mother will be here by Tuesday, we hope, and it would be nice for her to find it arranged, and all the things sent for the week. It was one of the reasons she was sorry not to come at once herself—to see about it.”
“I hope it was not illness that delayed Mrs Whyte’s coming,” said mamma, kindly.
“Not her own,” said Captain Whyte, “but one of the boys had caught cold—he’s our delicate one—and very subject to croup. So it was safer to wait, and Evey and I came on with the three other small ones and one big one, leaving Mary and Joss to help their mother with the invalid.”
“I am sure I can find you a nice laundress,” said mamma, on which Evey’s brow cleared.
“And not dear?” the little girl asked—for, after all, she was a little girl, barely thirteen.
Mamma could not help smiling. Evey was so business-like.
“I think Mrs Whyte would find our laundress reason able,” she said. “Indeed, I don’t think any prices about here are extortionate.”
“That is one of the recommendations of Elmwood to us,” said Captain Whyte, smiling. “But, Evey, we have really intruded on Mrs Percy too long. Thank you so very much for your kind help.”