"What directions are there as to what is to be done with the contents of your own rooms--your two rooms, bedroom and boudoir? Perhaps I may be allowed to remark, Miss Lindsay, that I believe you've a right to whatever is in your own rooms; no one's a right to touch anything that's in them except you."
"Thank you, Morgan; there are no directions. By the bye, if you like I will write you two or three lines, before I go, which you will be able to use as a reference when you are applying for another situation. I don't wish you to suffer by what has happened."
"Thank you, Miss Lindsay, you are very good; but I don't propose to seek another situation. I am giving up service. I trust, Miss Lindsay, that in the future everything will turn out as you would like it to."
"Thank you, Morgan, I hope it will. Say goodbye to the others for me, and say I wish them all well."
The butler inclined his head with his most deferential air. The trunk had been lifted into its place at the back of the cart, the footman had ascended to the driver's seat, and Nora was climbing up to his side, when a seedy-looking man came shambling along the drive, apparently in a state of some excitement.
"Here, what's all this!" he cried. "This won't do, you know."
"What won't do?" inquired the footman.
"What you're doing of--that won't do. I'm in charge of the stable, and that horse and cart have been took out of it; can't have that; nothing's to be took off the premises without the governor's express permission."
"Isn't it? We'll see about that; and so will you see if you don't watch out."
The footman evinced an inclination to use his whip with some degree of freedom. Nora laid a restraining hand upon his arm. She addressed the seedy-looking man.