CHAPTER XXIII
"Send in tea if I ring once," said Jane, preparing to face Mr. Rochester's mother in a crumpled blue print, with her hair very untidy and her hands deeply empurpled. Her dress was empurpled too, because amid the bushes she had happened to kneel on a currant or two—but of this she was mercifully unaware. The carnation tint in her cheeks, induced by agitation, was very becoming, and she looked her prettiest. But she did not know this either. "Once for tea, Mrs. Doveton. Twice if I want you to let the lady out. At least, of course, Gladys must do that."
"I'll be handy, miss, you may be sure," said Gladys enthusiastically. "I'll hang round like in the hall."
"No, you won't, my gell," said Mrs. Doveton with some smartness. "I'll find you a job to do while you're waiting."
"P'r'aps I'd better go back to the shop," Gladys tried. "You hear the drawing-room bell quite plainly there, and I dessay Mr. Herbert wouldn't mind staying to take over the shop when I was called away."
"Mr. Herbert," said Mr. Herbert's mother, "will stay where he is, and you'll stay where you are. Don't you be flustered, Miss Jane. I daresay the old lady's quite mild really. Them short-set men with tempers to match often have quite quiet mothers."
"Don't make me laugh," said Jane, beginning to feel some sympathy with the giggles of Gladys. "You'll have tea all ready, won't you?"
She was annoyed to find, as she reached the drawing-room door, that her heart seemed to have left its normal position just above where you tuck the rose into your belt,
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