"We were having some people to dinner," said the anxious sister of
Captain Anthony.
She had heard the front door bell and wondered what it might mean. The
parlourmaid managed to whisper to her without attracting attention. The
servants had been frightened by the invasion of that wild girl in a muddy
skirt and with wisps of damp hair sticking to her pale cheeks. But they
had seen her before. This was not the first occasion, nor yet the last.
Directly she could slip away from her guests Mrs. Fyne ran upstairs.
"I found her in the night nursery crouching on the floor, her head
resting on the cot of the youngest of my girls. The eldest was sitting
up in bed looking at her across the room."
Only a nightlight was burning there. Mrs. Fyne raised her up, took her
over to Mr. Fyne's little dressing-room on the other side of the landing,
to a fire by which she could dry herself, and left her there. She had to
go back to her guests.
A most disagreeable surprise it must have been to the Fynes. Afterwards
they both went up and interviewed the girl. She jumped up at their
entrance.
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