“Of course!”
Then poor Chloe dropped her tray, laden with goodies for her beloved mistress, and a mixture of salad and croquettes and sandwiches rolled over the floor.
“My Gawd! My Gawd!” shrieked the girl. “Whar the count? Whar Mr. Carter? Whar that secondary?”
“What is it?” demanded the count sternly, as he stepped over the débris.
“My Miss Helen done gone ter Grantly!”
“Is that so? Why did she leave?”
His calm tones quieted the girl a little.
“She done gone with Dr. Wright——”
“Miss Ella Grant is ill and Helen went with Dr. Wright to look after her,” put in Nan. “I don’t know why Chloe is so excited.”