Miss Truefitt averted her eyes altogether. "Yes," she said, faintly.
A strange feeling of solemnity came over the triumphant Richard. He took the hand nearest to him and pressed it gently.
"I—I can hardly believe in my good luck," he murmured.
"Good luck?" said Prudence, innocently.
"Isn't it good luck to hear you say that you are glad I'm here?" said Catesby.
"You're the best judge of that," said the girl, withdrawing her hand. "It doesn't seem to me much to be pleased about."
Mr. Catesby eyed her in perplexity, and was about to address another tender remark to her when she was overcome by a slight fit of coughing. At the same moment he started at the sound of a shuffling footstep in the passage. Somebody tapped at the door.
"Yes?" said Prudence.
"Can't find the knife-powder, miss," said a harsh voice. The door was pushed open and disclosed a tall, bony woman of about forty. Her red arms were bare to the elbow, and she betrayed several evidences of a long and arduous day's charing.
"It's in the cupboard," said Prudence. "Why, what's the matter, Mrs. Porter?"