"Bless us and save us! who'd ha' thought of any one being in the bed?
Are you one of the Hollingford ladies, my dear? They are all gone
this hour or more!"
"Oh, dear, what shall I do? That lady they call Clare promised to
waken me in time. Papa will so wonder where I am, and I don't know
what Betty will say."
The child began to cry, and the housemaids looked at each other
in some dismay and much sympathy. Just then, they heard Mrs.
Kirkpatrick's step along the passages, approaching. She was singing
some little Italian air in a low musical voice, coming to her bedroom
to dress for dinner. One housemaid said to the other, with a knowing
look, "Best leave it to her;" and they passed on to their work in the
other rooms.
Mrs. Kirkpatrick opened the door, and stood aghast at the sight of
Molly.
"Why, I quite forgot you!" she said at length. "Nay, don't cry;
you'll make yourself not fit to be seen. Of course I must take the
consequences of your over-sleeping yourself, and if I can't manage to
get you back to Hollingford to-night, you shall sleep with me, and
we'll do our best to send you home to-morrow morning."
"But papa!" sobbed out Molly. "He always wants me to make tea for
him; and I have no night-things."
"Well, don't go and make a piece of work about what can't be helped
now. I'll lend you night-things, and your papa must do without your
making tea for him to-night. And another time don't over-sleep
yourself in a strange house; you may not always find yourself among
such hospitable people as they are here. Why now, if you don't cry
and make a figure of yourself, I'll ask if you may come in to dessert
with Master Smythe and the little ladies. You shall go into the
nursery, and have some tea with them; and then you must come back
here and brush your hair and make yourself tidy. I think it is a very
fine thing for you to be stopping in such a grand house as this; many
a little girl would like nothing better."
During this speech she was arranging her toilette for dinner--taking
off her black morning gown; putting on her dressing-gown; shaking her
long soft auburn hair over her shoulders, and glancing about the room
in search of various articles of her dress,--a running flow of easy
talk came babbling out all the time.
"I have a little girl of my own, dear! I don't know what she would
not give to be staying here at Lord Cumnor's with me; but, instead
of that, she has to spend her holidays at school; and yet you are
looking as miserable as can be at the thought of stopping for
just one night. I really have been as busy as can be with those
tiresome--those good ladies, I mean, from Hollingford--and one can't
think of everything at a time."