“Was she in good spirits at the carriage door?”
“No, sir. I thought my mistress seemed very anxious and uneasy. Is there anything more I can do, sir?”
“I don’t know. Wait a minute.”
He proceeded discontentedly with his breakfast. Louisa waited resignedly at the door.
“I think your mistress has been in bad spirits lately,” he resumed, with a sudden outbreak of petulance.
“My mistress has not been very cheerful, sir.”
“What do you mean by not very cheerful? Do you mean to prevaricate? Am I nobody in the house? Am I to be kept in the dark about everything? Is your mistress to go away on her own affairs, and leave me at home like a child—and am I not even to ask a question about her? Am I to be prevaricated with by a servant? I won’t be prevaricated with! Not very cheerful? What do you mean by not very cheerful?”
“I only meant that my mistress was not in good spirits, sir.”
“Why couldn’t you say it, then? Don’t you know the value of words? The most dreadful consequences sometimes happen from not knowing the value of words. Did your mistress tell you she was going to London?”
“Yes, sir.”