“Will Mary Burns do, my lady? It was my mother’s name.”
“Very well,” said Lady Bell; “I will tell Mrs. Fellowes that you will be known by that.”
“That girl has a history, I know,” she thought, as she went downstairs.
Punctual almost to the minute, Mrs. Davenant’s brougham arrived.
The evenings had drawn in, and a lamp was burning in the hall; and a small fire made the dining-room comfortable.
Lady Bell welcomed Una most affectionately.
“Now we will have a really enjoyable evening,” she said. “I hate dinner parties, and if I had my way, would never give nor go to another one. If it were only a little colder, we’d sit round the fire and bake chestnuts. Have you ever done that, Wild Bird?”
“Often,” said Una, with a quiet smile, and something like a sigh, as she thought of the long winter evenings in the cot. How long ago they seemed, almost unreal, as if they had never happened.
“Oh, Una is very accomplished,” said Jack; “I believe she could make coffee if she tried.”
Very snug and comfortable the dining-room looked. Lady Bell had dispensed with one of the footmen, and had evidently determined to make the meal as homely and unceremonious as possible.