“You can cook a chicken, Agnes?”
“Lor’! yes, miss.”
“And a sole?”
“Yes, miss; but in ordering, miss, you must think of to-morrow. You won’t like to have a nice dinner to-night and a bit of hashed mutton to-morrow.”
“I’ll order sufficient. You’ve got no wine, I suppose?”
“No, we’ve no wine, miss, only draught beer.”
“I’ll tell my coachman to go and fetch the things at once.”
When she returned to the music-room, Agnes asked her if she was going to stop the night.
“Because I should have to get your rooms ready, miss.”
“That I can’t tell, Agnes.... I don’t think so.... You won’t tell my father I’m here when you let him in?... I want it to be a surprise.”
“I won’t say nothing, miss. I’ll leave him to find it out.”
Evelyn felt that the girl must have guessed her story, must have perce
