“I just wondered if you’d be coming, my Lady,” the woman said brightly.

“Am I late?” asked Connie.

“Oh⁠ ⁠… only Sir Clifford was waiting for his tea.”

“Why didn’t you make it then?”

“Oh, I don’t think it’s hardly my place. I don’t think Sir Clifford would like it at all, my Lady.”

“I don’t see why not,” said Connie.

She went indoors to Clifford’s study, where the old brass kettle was simmering on the tray.