“Ye think so!” he said rather fiercely, as if it were a dogma to question. And then he added: “There’s that big Beenie creature, that is, I suppose, as much with her as ever—send her to me.”
“Eh, Sir Robert, how is she to leave Miss Lily, that is just not well at all this morning?”
“Send her to me at once!” the old gentleman said imperatively. He went into the dining-room, which was on the lower floor and the room he liked best, the most comfortable in the house. There were no signs of a woman’s presence in that room. A vague wonder crossed his mind if, after all, Lily had been here at all. He forgot that he had been much incommoded the evening before by the books and the work-baskets, the cushions and the footstools, which had demonstrated the some time presence of a woman upstairs. He kept walking up and down the room stiffly, feeling his foot a little, as he owned to himself. Sir Robert truly felt that he would not be sorry if the prescription of his native air failed manifestly at once.
“Well,” he said, turning round hastily at a timid opening of the door. “How’s your mistress—how’s my niece? What does she mean by taking shelter in her bed, and never appearing to bid me welcome?”
“Oh, Sir Robert, Miss Lily——” said Beenie. She held the door open and stood leaning against the edge, as if ready to fly at a call from without or a thrust from within. Beenie’s hair, which it was difficult to keep tidy at the best of times, hung over her pale countenance like a cloud, a short lock standing out from her forehead. We are accustomed now to every vagary of which hair is capable, and are not disturbed by loose locks; but in those days strict tidiness was the rule; and Beenie, very white as to her cheeks and red round the eyes, partly with tears, partly with watching, was, to Sir Robert, a being unworthy of any confidence.
“Woman!” he cried, “you look as if you had been up all night—and not a fit person to be a lady’s body-servant, and with her night and day!”
“Fit or no,” said Beenie, with a sob, “I’m the one Miss Lily’s aye had, and her and me will never be parted either with her will or mine.”
“We’ll see about that,” said Sir Robert. But he was wise man enough to know that a favorite servant was a difficult thing to attack. He asked peremptorily: “What is the matter with her?” placing himself, like a judge, in the great chair.
“Eh, Sir Robert, if Marg’ret, my cousin, had been here, that is half a doctor herself! but me I know nothing,” cried Beenie, wringing her hands.
“Is it a cold?”