had been anything of the kind; she was even inclined to make light of it.
"Why, you've been away weeks and weeks. And Aunt Annie says you've had to have an operation."
"Only a slight one." The tone was casual. "Nothing to speak of."
"Nothing to speak of! Aunt Annie says you have been at Brighton I don't know how long."
"Well, you know," said Harriet in a discreet, rather charming voice, "they thought I was run down and that I ought to have a good rest. You see, the long illness of her Grace was very trying for those who had to look after her."
"I suppose so. Although her Grace has been dead nearly two years. Anyhow, I hope the Family paid your expenses." The elder sister and prudent housewife looked at Harriet keenly.
"Everything, even my railway fare." A fine note came into the voice of Harriet Sanderson.
"Lucky you to be in such service," said Eliza in a tone of envy.
Slowly the color deepened in Harriet's cheek.
"By the way, what are you doing at Buntisford? Does it mean you've left Bridport House for good?"
"It does, I suppose."
"But I thought Buntisford had been closed for years?"
"His Grace had it opened again, so that he can go down there when he wants to be quiet. He was always fond of it. There's a bit of rough shooting and a river, and it's within thirty miles of London; he finds it very convenient. Of course, it's quite small and easy to manage."
