The Baker’s Daughter Read Online Free PDF Page B

Mr. Darnay replied. “What else should I want you to do? Fry the bacon, by all means. Though dynasties fall we must eat—eat or die—and I have no intention of dying yet,” he added.
    Sue thought he was very strange. She came down a few steps and hesitated. “Will I wake Mrs. Darnay, or will you?” she inquired.
    He had turned away, but now he stopped and looked back. “My good girl, they’ve gone,” he said quietly. “D’you mean to say you didn’t know? Yes, they’ve both gone—I took them to the station. There’s nobody left in the house but me—and you. Of course I don’t expect you to stay. I had forgotten all about you.”
    Sue went into the kitchen and fried the bacon. She worked mechanically, her brain busy with the extraordinary behavior of her employers. It’s as if they were daft , she thought as she laid the rashers of bacon tenderly in the pan. Yes, it’s just as if they were daft, engaging me to come cook for them and then haring off in the middle of the night, but it’s none of my business, of course.
    It was none of her business how her employers chose to behave, but her own future was her business, and she viewed it with dismay. She saw herself returning to Beilford with her tail between her legs and producing this absolutely incredible tale to account for her dismissal.
    Sue set the table and rang the gong, and almost immediately Mr. Darnay came strolling up from the river over the close turf. She left him and went to have her own meal, and she had barely finished when he came into the kitchen to find her. He was frowning, she noticed, and biting the stem of an unlit pipe.
    â€œLook here—er—of course I must pay you,” he said, stammering a little with obvious embarrassment. “I don’t know much about…but you’ve come here, and I suppose you were led to believe that—that you would be kept on—so—so—”
    â€œIt doesn’t matter,” she put in hastily.
    â€œMrs. Darnay was called away suddenly—er—on business.”
    â€œYes,” said Sue. She looked up and met his eyes, and he flushed under his tan. Mr. Darnay was an extremely bad liar.
    â€œYou don’t believe a word of it,” he exclaimed somewhat bitterly. “Why should you believe it? But all the same, I should be much obliged if you will give that explanation to your friends. I’m not particularly keen for the whole of Beilford to know that I’ve quarreled with my wife. They think I’m mad already.”
    Sue was embarrassed by the way he spoke. She realized that he scarcely knew what he was saying. He was all on edge, wounded and bitter at heart. He would regret his frankness later when he had time to consider it.
    â€œI suppose you heard the row,” he continued, “and all the fuss of packing—it lasted most of the night.”
    â€œI didn’t hear anything,” Sue assured him. “I was tired, so I went to bed at nine. Ovette never told me they were going away. I saw her box packed when I went up to bed, but I never thought—”
    â€œWhat!” he cried, turning upon her so suddenly that she started back in alarm. “You saw her box packed at nine o’clock! But it wasn’t until after that they decided to go. Wait a moment. We must get to the bottom of this.”
    â€œMaybe it would be best if we didn’t. Maybe it would be best if I just went home—I’ll not say a word to anybody.”
    He looked at her for the first time as if he really saw her and the hard lines of his face softened. “That’s damned good of you,” he declared. “I appreciate that, but I must know , you see. There’s something odd here, and I must understand it.
    â€œThe fact is this place does not suit my wife. She always hated it. But I had to get away from everything—the parties, the late nights, and all the other