Lady Wyndover laughed again, but did not explain.
“I am sure we shall get on very well together,” she said. “They say I am one of the best-tempered women in London, and I really am not bad, and I am certain that you are perfectly sweet.”
“I don’t know,” said Esmeralda, looking rather doubtful.
“Won’t you have some bread and butter?” asked Lady Wyndover: “or perhaps you’d like some cake.”
“I’ll have some cake,” said Esmeralda, and she cut herself a huge slice—so huge that Lady Wyndover had hard work to repress a shudder.
“I never thought to ask if you were hungry, dear,” she said. “We dine at eight. Will you have something more—more substantial?”
“No, thanks; this will do,” said Esmeralda, looking at the remainder of the cake. “I’m nearly always hungry. They used to laugh at me on board the ship, and the captain said that he was afraid he should have to put in somewhere and lay in a fresh stock of provisions.”
There was a touch of envy in Lady Wyndover’s eyes as she watched her.
“I hope you won’t lose your appetite in London. It’s a very trying place. And now tell me all about yourself. Of course, I know how you have been living in that place with the curious name, and how Mr. Pinchook found you. Tell me about your guardian and your friends; in fact, anything you can think of.”
Esmeralda munched her cake with her white, even teeth, and looked thoughtfully at the fire. Although she had left Three Star only so short a time ago, she had begun to understand why Varley Howard had advised her not to be too communicative about him and her past life; and, although she was ashamed neither of him nor it, she shrunk from speaking of him to this dainty lady, who would, no doubt, regard him unfavorably.