“Auntie!” exclaimed Judith. “Who ever would have thought of seeing you here?”
Miss Trevisa turned sharply round, and her lips tightened.
“And who would have thought of seeing you here,” she answered, curtly.
“Auntie, the rain came on; I ran in here so as not to be wet through. To whom does this house belong?”
“To the master—to whom else? Captain Coppinger.”
“Are you measuring the window for blinds for him?”
“I am measuring for blinds, but not for him.”
“But—who lives here?”
“No one as yet.”
“Is any one coming to live here?”