Miss Westbury had been christened Maria, but Millie was the name which she had chosen to be called by her friends.
"I am very pleased to come, dear Isabella. To call on you on one of your Wednesdays is, I know, quite hopeless if one has anything to say. To call on any one on a day at home, except as a mere matter of form, I do not consider sensible."
"Quite so. Will you have some tea?"
Mrs. Wyburn rang the bell rather fretfully. She did not care for Millie's made conversation, and hated her way of gaining time.
"I will have what I always have, dear Mrs. Wyburn, at five o'clock, if I may—hot water with one teaspoonful of milk, and a saccharine tablet which I bring with me. I am not a faddist, and I think all those sort of fancies about what is and what is not good for one are exceedingly foolish; but when I go in for a régime, dear, I give it a fair chance. Otherwise there is no sense in it!"
She settled herself still more sensibly and decidedly in her chair.
"I wonder," said Mrs. Wyburn nervously—one could see she was not listening, and thought Miss Westbury was merely drivelling on—"whether you will come to the point at once? It would be a great comfort if you would. I have been feeling quite anxious about your visit. I rather foolishly took some coffee after lunch, and it kept me awake the whole afternoon—either that, or my anxiety."
"If you take coffee after lunch," replied Miss Westbury, "you should take it made as I do. Two teaspoonfuls of coffee in a large breakfast-cup full of hot water, a saccharine tablet, and a teaspoonful of condensed——"
"What was it you really heard, Millie dear, about my daughter-in-law?" interrupted Mrs. Wyburn sharply.
Here the footman brought in the tea. Miss Westbury frowned, and ostentatiously changed the subject.