I had not been able to judge much of the place. Miss Cheriton’s chatter had engrossed me. I knew we had driven very fast through a pretty village, and that we had turned off down a country road, and that was all. Once I fancied I had caught a blue shimmer in the distance that must have been the sea, but after we had turned into the lodge gates, I took no more notice of Miss Cheriton and her companion. I was far too curious to see Marshlands, the home where my beloved mistress had passed her childhood.
A short avenue brought us to the gravelled sweep before the hall door. A large sunny garden with terraces seemed to stretch into a park-like meadow; in reality it was divided by a wire fence to keep in the sheep that were feeding between the trees. An old white pony was looking across the fence, attracted by the sound of our horses, a little black and tan terrier flew out on the steps barking, and a peacock, who was spreading his tail on the sundial, retreated in much disgust, sweeping his train of feathers behind him.
“Jacko hates Fidgets,” observed Miss Cheriton, as the children clapped their hands at the gorgeous bird, and then Mr. Hawtry dismounted and lifted Joyce out of the carriage.
I stood for a moment with Reggie in my arms, admiring the old red brick house, with its ivy-covered gables, before we entered the wide dark hall, and it was then that I distinctly heard Mr. Hawtry say—
“Who is that young lady?”
“Do you mean the children’s nurse, Miss Fenton?” observed Miss Cheriton, carelessly. “Oh, yes, Vi says she is quite a lady, and very nice, but——” Here I passed on quickly and lost the rest, only my foolish cheeks caught fire. Merle, Merle, be prudent, remember the Valley of Humiliation. What does it matter, my girl, what the world thinks? Eve was a dairymaid in Eden.
An old grey-headed butler had hurried out to meet us. Miss Cheriton, who had joined us after a minute or two, questioned him at once.
“Is Mrs. Markham still out, Benson?”
“Yes, ma’am, and Master Rolf and Judson are with her, but I have taken tea into the morning-room.”
“Very well, Benson, I will be down presently. Now, Miss Fenton, let me show you your quarters,” and she preceded us up the dark old staircase, and down a long narrow lobby, lighted with small lozenged pane windows, and threw open a door at the end of the passage. “This is the old day nursery, and there are two bedrooms communicating with it. Susan will bring up the children’s tea directly. Will you ring for anything you want. I am sorry I cannot wait now, but I must pour out tea for my father and Mr. Hawtry. I will come up again by-and-by,” and she nodded pleasantly and ran away.