CHAPTER VI

SAILING ORDERS “ARE you there, miss?” The sepulchral whisper came faintly to Cecilia’s ears as she sat in her little room, sewing a frock of Queenie’s. The children were out in the garden at the back of the house. Mrs. Rainham was practising in the drawing-room. The sound of a high trill floated upwards as she opened the door. “What is it, Eliza?” “It’s a letter, miss. A kid brought it to the kitchen door—a bit of a boy. Arsked for me as if ’e’d known me all ’is life—called me Elizer! ’E’s waitin’ for an answer. I’…