"No, I never met any one by that name. I live a long way from Canada."
"About 'ow far do you think, ma'm?"
Cassandra had no idea of the distance, but she knew how long David and Hoyle were journeying there, so she answered as best she could. "It takes three or four days to get there from my home."
The old man's eyes opened wide, and his jaw dropped. "It's a big country—America is. England may be a small place, but she 'as tremendous big possessions." He felt it all belonged to England, and spoke with swelling pride as his short legs carried him toward the door. There again he paused. He had learned nothing of this young woman to tell his old wife, except that she came from America, and had never met Samuel Cutter. The mystery was still unsolved.
"Yes, 'is young lordship do look amazing like that picture. If you'd ever seen 'im, you'd think 'e'd dressed up in velvet and lace and stood for it. 'E's lived in America five years, but if you never were in Canada and never met our Sammy, it's more likely you never saw 'im either."
"Is he at their country home also?" Cassandra asked. She had seated herself in the hall, for her heart throbbed chokingly, and the lump was heavy in her throat. It was as she had dreamed sometimes, when her feet seemed to cling to the earth, and would not lift her weight up some steep hill.
"'Is lordship is still in Hafrica, mam. 'E 'ave been a great traveller, but 'e can't stay much longer now, for Lady Laura is to 'ave a grand coming out, and 'is lordship is to be married. Her ladyship's 'eart is set on it, and on 'is marrying 'igh, too. That's gossip, you know."
Cassandra rose and stood suddenly poised for flight. She must get out of that house and hear no more. She had a silver shilling in her hand, for Betty Towers had told her all servants expected a tip, and this was intended for the cabman. Had she followed her impulse, she would have darted by with her fingers in her ears, but instead, she dropped the shilling in the old man's hand, and quietly turned toward the door.
"Thank you," his fingers closed over the shilling. Her pallor struck him then, even as the red spot on her cheek deepened, and he held out his arms for the child.
"Let me carry 'im for you, ma'm. Is it a boy?"