"There is no use in attempting to make you hear reason," said the Baroness, who was in a towering passion, to the great delight of Rachel; "your uncle will be extremely angry, and now, as that tiresome woman will not help me, I must go and settle the house somehow. The Baron wants to give a great fête next week, and then there is that water-party, and half the tickets are still on my hands, and none of the arrangements made; and you—what are you as a help? lying on a sofa reading poetry—more of an encumbrance than a help."
"Thank you, Aunt. At all events it is a blessing to be something, if it be only an encumbrance; and as you are going up-stairs, will you ask the maids, if they have not drank all the tea, to bring me a cup?"
There was a slight approximation to a bang, in the manner in which the Baroness shut the door; but when it was closed, Rachel's whole expression and manner altered, her half insolent, half sleepy looks vanished, and the repressed air of drollery which characterised
