"Mistress Rose is gone clean
demented with trouble, and that is the worst that has befallen this
poor house yet."
"There!" said Lucy, as soon as she was gone; "I have held my tongue
this time. O Walter, you don't do it a bit like Rose!"
"Where is Rose!" said Eleanor. "How did you get out?"
"Well!" said Walter, "it is hard that, whatever we do, women and
babies are mixed up with it. I must trust you since you have found
me out, but mind, Lucy, not one word or look that can lead anyone to
guess what I am telling you. Edmund is safe out of this house, Rose
is gone with him--'tis safest not to say where."
"But is not she coming back?" asked Eleanor.
"Oh yes, very soon--to-day, or to-morrow perhaps. So I am Rose till
she comes back, and little did I guess what I was undertaking! I
never was properly thankful till now that I was not born a woman!"
"Oh don't stride along so, or they will find you out," exclaimed
Eleanor.
"And don't mince and amble, that is worse!" added Lucy. "Oh you will
make me laugh in spite of everything."
"Pshaw! I shall shut myself into my--her room, and see nobody!" said
Walter; "you must keep Charlie off, Lucy, and don't let Deb drive me
distracted. I dare say, if necessary, I can fool it enough for the
rebels, who never spoke to a gentlewoman in their lives.
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