"
"Lor, Brobson, how horful!" cried Eliza. And in this pleasant converse, the
nurse and her subordinate wasted another five minutes.
The nursemaid frittered away a few more minutes in tapping gingerly at the
dressing-room door, until at last, emboldened by the silence, she opened
it, and, peering in, beheld nothing but emptiness. Mrs. Granger had gone to
the drawing-room perhaps; but where was baby? and where was Jane Target?
The girl went in search of her favourite, William Baker. Were Mrs. Granger
and baby in the drawing-room? No; Mr. Baker had been in attendance all the
afternoon. Mrs. Granger had not left her own apartments.
"But she's not there," cried Eliza, aghast; "nor Target either. I've been
looking for baby."
She ran back to the dressing-room; it was still empty, and the bedroom
adjoining. Mr. Granger's dressing-room was beyond that, and he was there
writing letters. At this door--this sacred door, the threshold whereof she
had never crossed--Eliza the nursemaid tapped nervously.
"O, if you please, sir, have you got Master Lovel?"
"No," cried Daniel Granger, starting up from his desk. "What made you think
him likely to be here?"
"I can't find him, please, sir. I've been looking in Mrs. Granger's
dressing-room, and everywhere almost. Jane Target fetched him for his ma
close upon a hour ago; and Mrs. Brobson sent me for him, and I fancied as
you might have got him with you, sir.
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