She was waiting for her young lady's bell, when her young lady chose
to call her back to go on with the packing for the next day's journey.
Further inquiry revealed to me, that Miss Rachel had given it as a
reason for wanting to go to her aunt at Frizinghall, that the house was
unendurable to her, and that she could bear the odious presence of a
policeman under the same roof with herself no longer. On being informed,
half an hour since, that her departure would be delayed till two in the
afternoon, she had flown into a violent passion. My lady, present at the
time, had severely rebuked her, and then (having apparently something
to say, which was reserved for her daughter's private ear) had sent
Penelope out of the room. My girl was in wretchedly low spirits about
the changed state of things in the house. "Nothing goes right,
father; nothing is like what it used to be. I feel as if some dreadful
misfortune was hanging over us all."
That was my feeling too. But I put a good face on it, before my
daughter. Miss Rachel's bell rang while we were talking. Penelope ran
up the back stairs to go on with the packing. I went by the other way to
the hall, to see what the glass said about the change in the weather.
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