“Well, a lady’s maid ought to be a lady,” said Lady Bell, languidly. “Where is she?”
“In my room,” said Mrs. Fellowes. “She came with a note from Lady Challoner. It seems the poor girl has been in trouble—she has lost her father—and not caring to go for a governess——”
“For which I don’t blame her,” said Lady Bell.
“She is desirous of getting an engagement as a companion or lady’s maid.”
“A companion’s worse off than a governess, isn’t she?” said Lady Bell, naively.
Mrs. Fellowes smiled.
“Yes. What is her name?” asked Lady Bell.
“Well, there’s the point,” said Mrs. Fellowes. “Her name is Laura Treherne, but as some of her friends—she hasn’t many, she says—might think that she had done wrong in taking a menial situation she wishes to be known by some other name.”
“I hate mysteries and aliases,” said Lady Bell. “I don’t think I shall engage her. She’ll be too proud to do my hair and copy all my dresses in common material. Well, I’ll see her.”
“I’ll send her away if you like,” said Mrs. Fellowes; “but I think you’ll like her.”