Milliard and Mr. Hay mixed up, and would
they sort themselves, please? Once he had them straightened out in his
mind, he'd try to keep them straight.
"Has my maid come on from El Portal?" Angela thought this a propitious
moment for a question on some other subject.
"Your maid? No, Mrs. Hill, she hasn't."
"And no message? How strange!"
"Nothing that I've heard of. But I'll let you know. If Mr. Mayard--Mr.
Mill, will come with me to the 'phone, when you're in his room--I mean,
when you're in yours--we may get on to El Portal."
Angela was still laughing to herself, when word was brought by a
chambermaid that Kate had telephoned from El Portal. She had hurt her
ankle in getting into the stage (Angela could quite imagine that!), and
had not been able to proceed. It was not, however, a regular sprain. She
was in bandages, but better; and it was now settled that, without fail,
she was to meet Mrs. May at Wawona to-morrow. "And your husband wants to
know," added the chambermaid, "what time you would like to have your
lunch."
"He is not my husband," said Angela.
The young woman froze.
"We are friends."
The scandalized muscles relaxed. There was a high nobility in friendship.
The chambermaid herself had a friend, who talked a great deal about Plato,
in the cheap edition.
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