It was an immense relief to the three harassed workers when the parlour-maid entered and announced—
“If you please, Miss Parrett, Lady Mary Cooper has called, and I’ve shown her into the study.”
“You mean the library,” corrected her mistress. “Say I’m coming;” and she trotted over to a glass, removed her hood, and called upon Aurea to arrange her cap.
“Time Lady Mary did call!” she grumbled. “We are here seven months.”
“She has been abroad,” said Susan; “and, anyway, she’s not much of a visitor.”
“Well, she is our own cousin, at any rate.”
“Our cousin—Lady Mary!” repeated Miss Susan. “I do declare, Bella, you have a craze for cousins. Why, we scarcely know the woman!”
“Now, Susan, don’t argue! She is our relative; her great-great-aunt married a Davenant, and I suppose you will allow that they are our kin? I have no time to explain now;” and she pattered off, abandoning the workers to their own devices.
“Your Aunt Bella is so funny about relations! People I’ve never heard of she will say are our own cousins.”
“Yes, to the tenth generation,” agreed Aurea, “if they are well born. Aunt Bella has pedigree on the brain—for myself, I think it a bore.”