Lucy had given Hugh the latch-key wherewith to open the door, and while Mrs. Bray spoke, she was making her way into the hall, aided by Lucy’s arm.
“This is very annoying,” said Lucy. “I leave you to imagine under what circumstances I have been ‘partic’ler’ about ‘folks’ coming into the house. I fear Jane has done this out of pure malice.”
“My dear, I thought so at once,” returned Mrs. Bray, “and I was a perfect match for her; for I showed no annoyance, and I highly commended you, saying that if all ladies were as prudent we should not hear of half the robberies which take place.” Mrs. Bray gave a quick little nod of triumphant self-satisfaction.
“And, my dear,” she went on, “that’s not the sort of girl for you to have about your house. A creature who will turn her own misdemeanours into nettles to sting you with, is capable of anything. She should be at once sent off about her business.”
“She is going off about it,” answered Lucy. “The moment she knew she had done something which I could not pass over in silence, she gave me ‘notice.’”
“Hoity-toity,” cried Mrs. Bray; “and I hope you’ve got somebody else, and will be able to release her before her date?”
Lucy shook her head with a sad little smile. “But don’t let me talk kitchen,” she said, “I want to hear your impressions of the Royal Academy.”
“It’s been open for just a fortnight,” said Mrs. Bray, looking keenly at her. “Of course, you’ve been? I know all about your bothering Institute classes, but there was Saturday.”
“Last Saturday I had to stay indoors in hopes of interviewing servants,” Lucy answered cheerfully, “and I shall have to do the same to-morrow.”