Annette was about to disclaim this notion somewhat eagerly, when Mrs. Willmot's clear, metallic voice struck in:
"I can not think why the girls are not down. We were home last night at a ridiculously early hour. There is not the slightest excuse for being so late. Lottie, do go up and hurry them. Georgina is getting into lax ways. I am always telling her that early rising is the best cosmetic for the complexion. I do not know if you have noticed it, Averil, but Georgie is getting positively fat."
"No, I can not say that I have noticed it," returned Averil, rather curtly. "They are not later than usual. I hope they will not keep Lottie, or her breakfast will get cold." But Mrs. Willmot interrupted her; this time she spoke in a decidedly injured voice.
"My dear Averil, it is too bad. The toast is hard again. I can not possibly eat it. Really, Mrs. Adams is growing more careless every day."
"I am so sorry. Annette, would you mind ringing the bell, and I will order some fresh toast to be made." Averil spoke with the utmost good-humor, but as she gave the order Mrs. Willmot's cloudy brow did not relax, and Roberts had hardly closed the door before she burst out again:
"It is really shameful, Averil, to see how you are duped by your servants. Look at the wages you give Mrs. Adams—nearly double what I used to pay Ransome—and she is growing more neglectful every day. Why, the lobster cutlets the other day were not fit to eat, and she had flavored the white soup wrongly. How you can put up with such an incompetent person, just because she is a respectable woman, passes my comprehension. In my opinion old servants are mistakes. Of course, you shake your head. One might as well talk to the wind. It is a little hard that at my age and with all my experience, you will never consent to be guided by me in such matters."
Averil elevated her eyebrows slightly. "I am afraid, my dear Mrs. Willmot, that on these points we must agree to differ, as you well know, for we have often discussed the matter. Nothing would induce me to part with Mrs. Adams. She is an invaluable servant; she is industrious and economical, and my father always praised her cooking. I think Rodney has infected you with his club notions. He has got it into his head that it is his prerogative as an Englishman to grumble, but I mean to give him a strong hint to hold his tongue before Roberts. By the bye, Mrs. Willmot"—gliding easily from the vexed topic—"I have two more refusals this morning—from the Farnboroughs and Lathams."
"What are you saying about the Lathams, Averil?" interposed a fresh voice, and a tall, striking-looking girl, the youthful image of her mother, entered the room, followed closely by Lottie.
"Good-morning, mother! What are you frowning at?" bestowing a light, butterfly kiss rather carelessly as she passed. "Oh!" with a sudden change of tone, and with rather a cool stare at Annette. "This is Miss Ramsay, I suppose. How do you do? Very well, I hope—pleasant journey, and all that sort of thing?" And the young lady swept to her chair with an impertinent insouciance of manner that some people thought charming.
"What has become of your sister, Maud?" asked her mother, in rather a freezing tone.