“But if you get into trouble yourself, miss? What then?”
Henrietta turned with the air of a martyr to the window and looked out.
“I thought you liked me a little,” she murmured presently, and dried a tear that was not there. “I thought you would do a small thing for me.”
The woman took her hand and kissed it softly.
“I will, miss, drat me if I don’t!” she said. “I’ll do what you wish, come what may of it! So there.”
Henrietta turned to her, her face in a glow. “You dear, kind thing!” she cried, “I’ll never forget it. You are the only one who is not against me.”
Ann shook her head.
“I hope I’ll not be the one to repent it!” she muttered, with a last spark of doubt.
“Indeed, indeed you won’t! But now”—naively—“shall I lock him in or not?”
“In the room?”