It was finally resolved in that anxious conclave that John should be sent up with the tea, much to John’s mortification and alarm, who began to feel that, perhaps, it might have been better to be civil to Patty Hewitt. He went, but returned in a minute, flying along the passages, his face crimson, his eyes staring out of his head. “She says as I’m never to show in her sight again!” he cried. “She says as how Mr. Stevens is to come hisself and do his duty: nor she didn’t say Mr. Stevens either,” cried John, with momentary satisfaction, “but Stevens, short; and wouldn’t let me so much as put down the tray!”
“Robert can take it,” said the butler; but he was bewildered and hesitated. Presently he followed with a sheepish air. “I’ll just go and see what comes of it,” he said.
Patty was sitting up very erect in her chair, a flame of battle on her cheeks. She allowed herself, however, to show a dignified relief when Stevens came in following his inferior, who carried the tray. It was not to be supposed that so great a man could bear that burden for himself: Patty recognised this fact with instant sympathy. She nodded her head with dignity.
“Stevens,” she said, with the air of a duchess, “you will see that that man never comes into my sight again.”
Stevens did not, indeed, make any reply, but a sound of consternation burst from him, a suspiration of forced breath, which Patty accepted as assent. Margaret was standing at a little distance speechless, an image of confusion and embarrassment. She knew no more than the servants what to do. Gervase’s wife—as there was no reason to doubt this woman was—how could Gervase’s cousin oppose her? Margaret had no rights—no position in the household; but the wife of Gervase had certainly rights, however inopportune might be the moment at which she chose to assert them. Mrs. Osborne, however, started violently when she herself was addressed with engaging friendliness.
“Won’t you come and have some tea? No? are you going? Then, will you please tell Gervase that tea is here, and I am waiting for him?” Patty said.
Margaret withdrew from the room as if a shot had been fired at her. Her confusion and helplessness were so great that they went beyond anything like resentment. She was almost overawed by the boldness of the intruder and the impossibility of the situation. Gervase stood in the doorway, excited and pleased, shouting for the carriages, talking about the horses to whoever would talk with him. She was glad of some excuse for calling him, taking him by the arm. Certainly he would be better anywhere than there.
“Gervase,” she said, “tell me, is that your wife who is in the library?”
“Eh? What do you say, Meg? Patty? Why, of course! What did you think she could be? Patty! look here, you come and tell Meg——”
“Hush, Gervase, she wants you to go to her. Tea is ready, and she is waiting for you. Now go, Gervase, go—do go!”