"It was wonderful playing," said the first lady. "She's as good as any of those prodigies one hears in town, and a very pretty, graceful girl too. Where did they pick her up?"
"Hush!" said the second. "She's Sir Darcy's niece. I'd never seen her before. She's really marvellously clever."
"His niece! Why, it's most unusual to find such talent in an amateur. She's equal to any professional."
"Well, I hear that she has been a professional. I certainly know for a fact that she has appeared in public."
"But you told me that she is Sir Darcy's niece. I shouldn't have thought the Lorraines would allow that."
"It's an old story," said the second speaker, lowering her voice still more. "Sir Darcy's sister made a disgraceful match. She actually ran away with her music master. It caused a terrible scandal at the time, and Sir John never forgave her. I believe he was a very clever man, and played divinely, but of course nobody would have anything to do with her afterwards. I heard they were both dead. This is their child, and no doubt it's only natural she should have been trained in this manner, as she's been living among her father's relations. Sir Darcy has taken her now, and intends to provide for her, but I really am astonished that he should allow her to play here to-night, when everybody must know the circumstances of the case."
Growing quite desperate, Mildred felt that she simply must move away, and, at the risk of being rude, managed to slip between a group of talking people. As she did so, she caught a glimpse, at the other side of the curtain, of Sir Darcy, who had also been standing in the shelter of the dining-room door, and she knew instantly, by his face, that he, too, must have overheard the conversation. Threading her way amongst the groups of visitors, she at last reached the staircase, and rushing up to her bedroom she locked the door, and flung herself on to her bed in a passion of hot, angry tears.
Why should they talk thus of her father? she asked herself bitterly. Was his genius not equal, nay superior, to rank and wealth? Did they class her, too, as infinitely beneath them? Which was the higher aim in life, to glory in the things that had been given you through no merit or toil of your own, and to scorn all those who did not possess them, or to make the very utmost of your talents, and let them be of some use to your fellow creatures, and by working your hardest feel that you had at least tried to take your share in the world's burden?
"I shall have to tell Uncle Darcy I'm going back to Kirkton," thought Mildred. "I don't know how to do it, but it's got to come somehow. I daren't leave it any longer, or Uncle Colin and Aunt Alice may begin to think I want to stay. It's most beautiful here, and I get ever so many things I shan't have at Meredith Terrace, but it's not home. They're very kind to me, but they don't love me in the least, and I'm sure they won't miss me when I'm gone. I'm nothing to them, and though it may be very grand to live at The Towers, it's a hundred times happier in my own dear home, and among my own people who really care for me."
After all, it was not so difficult as she had imagined, for the very next day the occasion arrived. The guests who had been staying in the house had gone away by the midday train, Miss Ward and Violet were at lessons, and Sir Darcy, Lady Lorraine, and Mildred were by themselves in the morning-room. The talk fell on the "At Home" of the night before, and Lady Lorraine made some comments on the singing of Miss Beresford, the Musgraves' cousin.