Mary kissed Rosemary and Trent frowned. Trent did not approve of girls going for walks by themselves. At least, if she let them go, Mary should have spoken a word of caution!
Rosemary saw the frown and left the room with a cheerful smile.
Mary followed her. It had not been at all a cosy breakfast.
When she went into her room she found that Miss Percival, that perfect young woman, was already waiting.
"There's something I want you to see," Mary told her, and showed her Florrie's letter. Miss Percival read the letter slowly, without moving the muscles of her face. Then she gave it back. "I'm afraid it looks like the usual thing!" she said, in a voice that took the place of a shrug.
This cynicism affected Mary painfully. "The car is coming in a minute," she said, with a grave look. "I thought we had better go to Exe Street at once and see what has happened for ourselves. I've looked up your notes, and I see that Florrie Wilson is living with an invalid mother who is a widow with some means of her own. She said that her mother is a lady, but I expect that was only her way of saying that they had seen better days."
"Or it might just be her idea of good form," suggested Miss Percival. "One has, after all, in Florrie's walk of life, to be one's own College of Heralds."
Mary looked surprised. Then she retired to put on her hat and to ponder a sentence that clashed with her notions of Miss Percival.
No. 100 Exe Street was a dirty little house in a dirty and depressing street. The few inches of garden in front of it were ornamented with two large white shells and various old tin cans. Its windows were shut, and as much light as possible kept out by torn lace curtains. It did not look like the house of one whose acquaintance with better days had been at all intimate.
Mary would not let the chauffeur ring the bell; she could not be as sure of his manners as of her own, and she waited with Miss Percival for several minutes before anyone in the house responded to her gentle pull. Then the door opened a little, and they could see a strip of a woman with bright red cheeks. She stared at the two visitors suspiciously, then she stared, with more interest, at the car. Finally, when Mary had asked her twice whether Florrie was in, she replied that they could go upstairs if they liked, and see. Top landing, back room. She shuffled along the passage in front of them and disappeared down the stairs that led to the odours of the basement.