There was a chuckle from the other end of the room.

The blood flew to the girl's face.

She knew without turning to look that the old man had been watching her careful escape and was enjoying the sight of her, caught at the moment when freedom was at hand.
Mrs.Ludlow was one of those busy little women who are thorns in the flesh of servants.

Her eyes had always been like those of an inspecting general.

No detail, however small, went unnoticed and unrectified.
She had been called by an uncountable number of housemaids and footmen "the little Madam"-- the most sarcastic term of opprobrium contained in their dictionary.