'Great news, I suppose, from Lady Knollys?' said Madame, who always knew
who in the house received letters by the post, and by an intuition from
whom they came.
'Two letters--you and your papa. She is quite well, I hope?'
'Quite well, thank you, Madame.'
Some fishing questions, dropped from time to time, fared no better. And
as usual, when she was foiled even in a trifle, she became sullen and
malignant.
That night, when my father and I were alone, he suddenly closed the book he
had been reading, and said--
'I heard from Monica Knollys to-day. I always liked poor Monnie; and though
she's no witch, and very wrong-headed at times, yet now and then she does
say a thing that's worth weighing. Did she ever talk to you of a time,
Maud, when you are to be your own mistress?'
'No,' I answered, a little puzzled, and looking straight in his rugged,
kindly face.
'Well, I thought she might--she's a rattle, you know--always _was_ a
rattle, and that sort of people say whatever comes uppermost. But that's a
subject for me, and more than once, Maud, it has puzzled me.'
He sighed.
'Come with me to the study, little Maud.
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