"It was most frightful," said Miss Henniker earnestly, while her busy eyes could not resist a little voyage of discovery round the room. Mrs. Effingham was always buying new pictures, new ornaments, new antimacassars and vases, for her pretty drawing-room; and Miss Henniker was always on the lookout for new ideas. "Yes, really quite terrible," she repeated, after noting with interest a dainty arrangement of grasses and scarves upon a side-table, Mrs. Effingham being addicted to combinations of Liberty's silks with Nature. "You might, as you say, so easily have been killed. It was most distressing. Christmas Day, too."
"Yes, indeed. I felt that I could not be sufficiently thankful. I meant to see Miss Tracy and to tell her how grateful I was, long before this; but I had a cold and could not go out. And she has been long returning my call. However, I hope we shall have her here presently."
"Miss Tracy! Is that her name? Where does she live?"
"O only in Willingdon Street,—in lodgings. It is not a very delightful part," Mrs. Effingham said apologetically for her heroine, as Miss Henniker's look of interest faded. "But that will not affect Miss Tracy herself—and, after all, there is nothing in the street—it is respectable enough, only, of course—well, I fancied that the family might be in town only for a short time; but when I went to call, I found that they actually lived there,—in lodgings. Just Colonel Tracy and his daughter; nobody else. It must be very dull for the poor girl."
"But you know nothing about them. I would not be drawn into an intimacy," said Miss Henniker.
"I assure you, they do not show any inclination to push; the difficulty is to get hold of Miss Tracy. Ah, here I hope she—no,—it is not."
"Mr. and Miss Claughton," announced the maid.
"Emmeline Claughton!" exclaimed Mrs. Effingham. "The sweetest girl!" she paused to whisper hurriedly to Miss Henniker. "Sister to the curate, you know. She stayed with him nearly a month last year, and I quite fell in love with her."
"Ah!" Miss Henniker murmured, privately thinking that Mrs. Effingham was apt to fall in love rather easily.
A tall, pale, dark-haired young lady entered, followed by a tall, pale, fair-haired young man. Neither could be called exactly handsome, but both were more than good-looking, and both had a certain distinguished air. Mrs. Effingham hurried forward with genuine delight, unalloyed this time. She threw her arms affectionately round the girl, holding out both hands the next moment to the brother, and then recoiling with a little start of surprise.