"I should like to see her," said Monica thoughtfully; "but I'm not one to make calls, as you know. I'm not a society person."
"My dear Monnie, if Mrs. Norman wants to know you she'll do it, whether you want it or not. She amuses me awfully. She has such a good opinion of herself that it never enters her head that other people may set a different value on her from what she does herself. There, I'm becoming bitter, and I will not be that, if I can help it. She told us the other day that she had left a 'weeping world' behind her in Norfolk. 'And I know,' she added, 'that new friends are more difficult to make as one grows older. My dear old ones have such a big place in my heart.'"
"That's nice," said Monica shortly. Then she looked out of the window. "And here she is coming up the drive. At least, it is a stranger. Peep and tell me if it is she, Sidney."
"Yes. I'm off. Don't let me meet her."
"But why not? Do stay."
"She'll—you'll get on better without me," said Sidney. "I'll creep out the back way."
But it was too late. Mrs. Norman's voice was heard in the hall, and the next moment she was in the room.
[CHAPTER VI]
LETTERS
"AH, this is delightful!" were her first words. "Miss Urquhart, you will be my friend, and introduce me? I have really only come up on a little matter of business, Miss Pembroke. It is so kind of you to let me have your dairy produce. I am wanting to start a small poultry yard. Quite a few hens, you know, as I'm rather an ignoramus; but Major Urquhart has been advising me strongly to go in for eggs and chickens. I think he is wise, don't you? And I wondered if you could sell me a few good pullets. I want them to begin laying in the winter. Can you manage that for me? Ah, Miss Urquhart, I see you are laughing at me; but you know what I mean! I don't want to keep fowls all the winter and never get an egg. And I have heard of Miss Pembroke's fame. Everything she puts her hand to prospers, I was told. What a charming old house you have!"