"I will see you again, poverina, after my interview with her ladyship," said the major, as he went off in charge of the footman.
Janet, left alone, threaded her way by the old familiar passages to the housekeeper's room. Dance was not there, being probably in attendance on Lady Pollexfen, and Janet had the room to herself. Her heart was heavy within her.
There was a chill sense of friendlessness, of being alone in the world, upon her. Were these cold walls to be the only home her youth would ever know? A few slow salt tears welled from her eyes as she sat brooding over the little wood fire, till presently there came a sound of footsteps, and the major's hand was laid caressingly on her shoulder.
"What, all alone!" he said; "and with nothing better to do than read fairy tales in the glowing embers! Is there no one in all this big house to attend to your wants? But Dance will be here presently, I have no doubt, and the good old soul will do her best to make you comfortable. I have been to pay my respects to her ladyship, who is in one of her unamiable moods this evening. I, however, contrived to wring from her a reluctant consent to your paying Aunt Felicity and me a visit now and then at Tydsbury, and it shall be my business to see that the promise is duly carried out."
"Then I am to remain at Dupley Walls!" said Janet. "I thought it probable that my visit might be for a few weeks only, as my first one was."
"From what Lady Pollexfen said, I imagine that the present arrangement is to be a permanent one; but she gave no hint of the mode in which she intended to make use of your services, and that she will make use of you in some way, no one who knows her can doubt. And now, dear, I must say good-bye for the present; good-bye, and God bless you! You may look to see me again within the week. Keep up your spirits, and----but here comes Dance, who will cheer you up far better than I can."
As the major went out, Dance came in. The good soul seemed quite unchanged, except that she had grown older and mellower, and seemed to have sweetened with age like an apple plucked unripe. A little cry of delight burst from her lips the moment she saw Janet. But in the very act of rushing forward with outstretched arms, she stopped. She stopped, and stared, and then curtsied as though involuntarily. "If the dead are ever allowed to come back to this earth, there is one of them before me now!" she murmured.
Janet caught the words, but her heart was too full to notice them just then. She had her arms round Dance's neck in a moment, and her bright young head was pressed against the old servant's faithful breast.
"Oh! Dance, Dance, I am so glad you are come!"
"Hush! dear heart; hush! my poor child; you must not take on in that way. It seems a poor coming home for you--for I suppose Dupley Walls is to be your home in time to come--but there are those under this roof that love you dearly. Eh! but you are grown tall and bonny, and look as fresh and sweet as a morning in May. Her ladyship ought to be proud of you. But she gets that cantankerous and cross-grained in her old age, that you never know what will suit her for two minutes at a time. For all that, her spirit is just wonderful, and she is a real lady every inch of her. And you, Miss Janet, you are a thorough lady; anybody can see that, and her ladyship will see it as soon as anybody. She will like you none the worse for being a gentlewoman. But here am I preaching away like any old gadabout, and you not as much as taken your bonnet off yet. Get your things off, dearie, and I'll have a cup of tea ready in no time, and you'll feel ever so much better when you have had it."