An aged and lachrymose aunt had turned up from somewhere, and was acting chaperon.
The old nurse had been relegated to what the aunt called her proper place. Collins had completely won the heart of the old nurse with an easy courtesy which is neither patronage nor familiarity, and she had sworn by him ever since he had taken them to the theatre. On that occasion he had, with great tact, laid himself out to amuse the old lady, while Mabel was left to her sulky Eric, which accentuated the contrast.
Now he had taken as much care in seeing to the comfort of the two old servants (for the butler was going back with them), as with Miss Watson herself—a fact she was quick to note and appreciate.
They were standing on the platform, waiting for the train to start, and Mabel gave him her hand.
“I am most awfully grateful to you for all you have done,” she said. “I don’t know how I should have got on without you. This has been a very trying time, but it would have been far worse but for your management.” He was pleased at the compliment.
“It has been a real pleasure to do what I could, and no trouble, for I have had to be in the thick of things, from my position.”
A cloud crossed her face.
“Yes, of course. You are trying to find the criminal.”
“I am trying first to find your brother.”
“Oh, I hope you do. It would be so comforting at this time if he were here.”