She closed the door with a decorous quiet and advanced, her mouth curved into the faint smile that had some mobile quality though the lips were still.
"I thought you would be late," said Mrs. Morton.
"I did my hair three times. I wanted to look nice."
"You look charming, dear. I hope you are not feeling nervous."
"Oh no!"
"I expect you are—a little. I remember my own introduction to the friends of Basil's father. It was in this room. It was a very anxious moment for me. One naturally wants to please, and I was very shy as a girl."
"You were younger than I am, perhaps."
"Only eighteen."
"Ah, I'm twenty-five. That makes a lot of difference." The picture of a maiden hearkening to the wisdom of the matron, she stood before Mrs. Morton with her hands behind her back, her head bent to look and listen.
"But you are not married, dear." Mrs. Morton was finding it unexpectedly easy to talk to Theresa. "And until a girl is married——"