“She does,” agreed Mrs. Hesketh, whose own beautiful face had been her fortune; “but if she hasn’t something to back it up in the way of character, or brains, or charm,—it’s not so much of a start, after all.”
“Hullo—wheels!” announced Colonel Fenchurch. “Here she is!” and he dashed into the hall.
“I think I ought to go,” murmured the visitor, reaching for her boa; “this is a family affair,” she added with a smile.
“And you are one of the family, Maudie,” declared Mrs. Fenchurch, laying a strong detaining hand upon her arm; “so you must stay.” Then, removing her hat, which she tossed on the sofa, she was about to follow her husband, when the door was thrown wide, and Colonel Fenchurch advanced into the room, beaming with pride, and leading a tall girl in a fur-lined cloak, who looked both timid and tired.
“My dear Letty, how late you are!” exclaimed her aunt, taking both her hands in hers and pecking her on the cheek; “and how frozen!”
“There was a slight accident which delayed us,” explained the girl nervously.
“Now, then, give me your cloak, and have some tea, and tell us all about it,” said her uncle, fussing round her.
“I am afraid the tea is rather cold,” said Mrs. Fenchurch, moving towards the tea equipage; “but we will have some more at once,” and she rang the bell violently.
“Maudie, this is my niece Lettice,” said Colonel Fenchurch, presenting her with ceremony. “Letty, Mrs. Hesketh is our nearest neighbour and your aunt’s cousin, and I hope you may find a corner in her heart.”
“My dear, you must be perished,” said the lady kindly. “Why, I declare you are positively shivering!”