“Yes, miss; them was his own words.”
Audrey turned to me, with a laugh that was half in earnest.
“If I were you, Norah, I should return a message to Mr Hammond to the effect that he need not wait.”
I hesitated, then spoke:
“Thank you, Jane; there is no message.”
When we got into Audrey’s room—she was awfully particular about keeping it all to herself, scarcely letting me inside it twice a year—I thought, as I always did, how pretty it was, especially compared to mine—she said something which took me aback.
“Norah, I want to ask you a favour.” I stared at her askance. “Don’t suffer these gentlemen to be impertinent.”
“As if I should! Do you think they’d dare?”
“Child, don’t blaze. I don’t know what has got into men’s heads to make them mad; but I wouldn’t allow them to act as if you took their madness for granted. That message of Mr Hammond’s was not a very pretty one.”
“I will make him smart for it.”