"What is it, Hodder?" demanded her ladyship.
"The cook, your ladyship. She's fallen downstairs and broken her
leg," announced Hodder. He did not betray it, but he must have been
tremendously surprised by the sigh of relief that went up on all
sides. Lord Bazelhurst went so far as to laugh.
"Ha, ha! is that all?"
"Oh, dear, I'm so glad!" cried Miss Folsom, impulsively. "I was
frightened half to death. It might have been Mr.--"
"Don't he silly, Rose," said Lady Bazelhurst. "Where is she, Hodder?"
"In the laundry, your ladyship. There are two fractures."
"By Jove, two legs instead of one, then--worse than I thought," cried
Bazelhurst, draining his glass.
"Send at once for a doctor, Hodder, and take her to her room. Isn't it
annoying," said her ladyship. "It's so difficult to keep a cook in the
mountains."
"Don't see how she can get away without legs," observed De Peyton.
"I'll come with you, Hodder. Perhaps I can do something for her," said
Penelope, following the butler from the room.
"Don't take too many patients on your hands, my dear," called the
mistress, with a shrill laugh.
"Yes; remember to-morrow," added the duke. Then, suddenly: "I believe
I'll lend a hand." He hurried after Penelope, rather actively for him.
Lord Bazelhurst visited his wife's room later in the night, called
there by a more or less peremptory summons. Cecil had been taking time
by the forelock in anticipation of Shaw's descent in the morning and
was inclined to jocundity.
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