“I am very fond of them,” said Mrs. Davenant, meekly. “You will hear a bell ring in half an hour; come to me then, I shall wait in the next room for you. I will not lock the door,” and she left her.
Una felt dazed and stunned for a few minutes, then she made what preparations were possible. She chose from her box, which had been conveyed to her room by some invisible agency apparently, a plain muslin dress, and, more by instinct than any prompting of vanity, fastened a rose in her hair.
She had scarcely completed her simple toilet when the bell rang, and she went into the next room.
A maid servant—Una noticed that it was not the one who had opened the door—was in attendance upon Mrs. Davenant, and dropped a courtesy as Mrs. Davenant said, in her nervous, hesitating fashion:
“This is Miss Rolfe, Jane.”
Una smiled, and was about to hold out her hand, but stopped, seeing no movement of a similar kind on the part of the neatly-dressed girl.
“Jane is my own maid, Una,” said Mrs. Davenant. “She will attend to you when you want her.”
Jane dropped another courtesy, but Una detected a glance of curiosity and scrutiny at the plain white muslin.
“Come,” said Mrs. Davenant, “let us go down. Dinner is ready,” and she led the way down-stairs.
Another fairy apartment broke upon Una’s astonished vision as they entered the dining-room.