“I expect you were her—servant, were you not? Come now, tell me the truth.”
Mrs. Aron, who had been standing all the time, looked about her—and coolly took a seat.
“Were you her servant?” repeated Mrs. Doran.
“Well, I won’t deny that I have cooked for her; yes, and for Mr. Grogan, too; but it was many years ago.”
“And you dare pretend to me that she told you to come here on a visit? My good woman, you are a humbug! Don’t tell me that Nora Grogan associates with her servants; she is a Doran, and has the Doran pride in her blood—although she did disgrace herself. And you are an impostor.”
“No, ma’am, I really am not: I am a respectable woman. Mrs. Grogan would tell you so——”
“But she has not told me so!” interrupted Mrs. Doran angrily. The Countess and party might enter at any moment and find her tête-à-tête with this person, who would probably disclose all manner of tales of Nora, and her husband, and disinter a buried and forgotten scandal!
“Mrs. Grogan told me a great deal about this beautiful place and her own country,” continued the intruder, in a meeker key. “I seem to know it as well as if I had seen it before. I expect she would see wonderful changes——”
“No doubt,” agreed Mrs. Doran, rising. Then she added with savage insolence: “Now I must really ask you to go. I am expecting friends. I firmly believe you are a fraud. There are too many frauds going”; and she rang the bell with energy.