"Yes," interrupted Mrs. Jenkins, "and I hear you have gone behind my back, and complained to Mrs. Devine,—oh, you abominable, ungrateful, double-faced minx!"
"To Mrs. Devine?" repeated Nancy. "I have never spoken to her in my life!"
"I don't believe you!" declared the accuser, her face alarmingly aflame; at this sharp crisis, the door was pushed open, and Galpin announced:
"Mrs. De Wolfe."
Mrs. De Wolfe, handsomely dressed, and completely self-possessed, walked forward to where Nancy stood before her accusers, and said in her masculine bass:
"Oh, my dear Nancy, I'm delighted to find you in at last! Pray introduce me to your aunt?" and she glanced at Mrs. Taylor,—who was still heaving with virtuous indignation.
The atmosphere was heavily charged with electricity, and for a moment Nancy was speechless. Then, hastily recovering herself:
"This is my aunt, Mrs. Jenkins. Aunt Arabella, here is Mrs. De Wolfe, with whom I travelled home in the Patna."
The shock of such an unexpected interruption had suddenly sobered Mrs. Jenkins: for a moment, she had been threatened with palpitation,—but thrust the temptation aside. Recently, she had heard Mrs. De Wolfe referred to as a woman of wealth and social importance; she therefore made an effort to recover her poise, and accord her a gracious reception. After a somewhat breathless and incoherent conversation with her hostess, Mrs. De Wolfe turned to Nancy.
"Have you been here ever since you came home?"