"Now, then!" Miss Parrott gathered up the train of her black silk gown and
put it over her arm; then in full view of the latticed window of the
kitchen and scullery department, she sallied forth across the greensward to
the stables beyond, Rachel's brown hand tucked in her own.
"Laws a me!" It was the scullery maid who screamed this out. "She's got on
Miss Parrott's coral beads."
"You're a ninny!" cried the cook, turning on her in disdain; "go back to
your pots and kettles, Ann. Whatever would she have to do with the
Mistress's beads? It's some old string you see around her neck."
"It tell you it's Miss Parrott's red beads!" declared Ann stoutly. She
might be sent back to her work among the pots and kettles, but she would
stick fast to her tale. "I seen 'em when I went up to Miss Parrott's room
with the bellows I'd cleaned this very morning, through the little winders
to her cupboard, an' I'd know 'em anywhere."
The cook stamped her foot, shaking the crash towel which she still
retained, and Ann withdrew to those inner precincts that were considered
her department.
Meanwhile, Miss Parrott was talking to Simmons, who, touching his hat
respectfully when he saw her approach, now came up to await her commands.
"Have the goodness to open the brougham door, Simmons," said Miss Parrott,
going through the carriage house to the corner where that ancient vehicle
was stored.
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