“Dear me, Sir Frederick, yours of course!” said the woman, in great terror. “Yours and my lady's, Sir Frederick. What a question, Sir Frederick, and on this day of all others!”
“Oh. Go!”
The nurse lost no time in hurrying herself and the children out of the presence of a master in whom she detected signs of incipient insanity.
“Mine, eh?” thought Freddy. “I've no recollection of—I've made up my mind not to be surprised at anything, but really this discovery makes a greater demand upon my powers of self-control than I bargained for.”
However, he regained his equanimity, and went up stairs. He opened the door quietly. A lady was seated at the glass, and a maid was doing her hair.
“Boo!” exclaimed Sir Frederick, playfully.
The maid started, and the lady turned round—it was not Louisa!
“I—beg your pardon—I thought—that is, I was told—”
“Come in, darling,” said the lady, and a very stout, jolly-looking lady she was. “Come in. I'm so glad you've come home early.” And so saying she ran to him and gave him a sounding kiss in the very heart of his right cheek.
It was quite clear that it was not Louisa, and it was equally clear that it was someone in whose room he had a perfect right to be. Who was she? He had a delicacy in asking the question—indeed he felt that his position was altogether a most delicate and difficult one.
