“Ay, it will be regretted by every man, woman, and child in the place, but by me most of all. Mr. Linie, will you do me a favour—the greatest I’ve ever asked of you? Will you take me and my boy with you when you go?”
It was out at last, and the old woman’s form quivered with excitement. If he were to refuse, it would be the greatest disappointment she had ever received. She was so devoted to the very name of Montella that she could not bear to be left behind. She watched Lionel’s face as she put the question, and awaited his answer in an agony of suspense. Lady Patricia drew forward a chair, and made her sit down. She could see that the nurse was intensely moved.
“We intend dismissing our staff of servants both in London and down here if we go,” the young man replied thoughtfully. “We shall be expected to employ Jewish labour as much as possible in the new land.”
“But you will have to employ some Gentile servants to work for you on your Sunday, sir,” she interposed eagerly. “I could see to that for you, and I could do all sorts of odd jobs for your lady and Lady Montella. I am getting old, maybe, but I can get about just as well as ever I could. I am sure you could manage the matter, Mr. Linie, if you were to try.”
The pleading in her manner touched Patricia.
“Say yes, Lionel,” she said to her husband, in a quiet voice. “As Mrs. Whiteside seems so anxious to accompany us, it would be a pity not to take her with us if we go.”
Lionel smiled.
“The Queen hath spoken: so be it,” he returned lightly. “Very well, nurse, I will promise you this. If we go, you shall go with us.”
“And Tom, too, sir?”
“Yes, certainly. We should not think of parting you from your boy.”