name of Miss Jenny, fearing to touch upon the baroness’s own house and family, which she might have taken ill perhaps. But she was sharp enough, and at no loss for sense; and the fact that Jenny had frequently paid visits to Cvok at Záluz̓í awakened a swarm of thoughts in her and, which she dwelt upon and speculated over to herself in secret. But, having been away from the estate for several months, she was obliged to exert all her powers to get everything into train again, and to make so for whatever had been neglected during her absence; and so it happened that she did not trouble her head much about the Záluz̓í event for the first week. But her faithful menial Ferdinand, who had kept Miss Jenny all the time, as it were, in readiness behind the bush, thought would be well not to keep back his news any longer, lest somebody else might come before him, and deprive him of the priority. So one fine morning, when he saw that his gracious mistress had slept well, he told her delicately the piquant piece of news—that, according to the general opinion, Miss Jenny was the mother of the Záluz̓í foundling.
This news set the mind of the baroness on the alert at once. She felt plainly that her house had become, more or less, the subject of people’s talk in connection with this scandal; and something much worse also arose involuntarily before her mind’s eye—the fear that perhaps even her Mundy might get mixed up with the nasty gossip. She at once reviewed before her the whole period of Jenny’s stay in her house, and scrutinized mentally Baron Mundy’s bearing towards her during that time. But except the unlucky accident in the avenue, which had happened in her absence, she found nothing to lay hold of. She was aware that both had come into
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