“Is he a sure enough, bang-up quality lord?” Lucy demanded a little skeptically, as if the news was too good to be true.
“He is an earl,” Dorothea announced impressively.
“My, oh my!” Lucy exclaimed, staring down at her young mistress in wonder. “Ah’ yoh ain’t never said nothin’ ’bout it till this minute. Land sakes, but won’t I tell that Itty somefin’! A Nearl! I reckon that’s ’most as fine as bein’ a President.”
Dorothea laughed gayly.
“I think that rather depends upon the President,” she answered. “But it’s almost as good as a King.”
Dorothea’s toilet was completed in a blaze of glory, the only difficulty being that the frocks that Lucy had formerly admired became, on a sudden, scarcely magnificent enough for one who claimed so exalted a relative.
After dinner Dorothea suddenly found herself alone. Miss Imogene slipped upstairs to unpack and rest after her journey. Harriot went grumblingly away with her governess. Mrs. May returned to her spinning-room and April disappeared with Val Tracy.
“Now is my chance,” Dorothea said to herself, and ran to her room to put on her hat.
Glancing out of the window, she saw April and Val Tracy strolling over the lawn in deep conversation. Obviously their talk was of serious interest to them both; but what Dorothea was most concerned with was the fact that their presence there cut her off from going away without being observed. She wished to slip off without the necessity of explanation as to where she was going, and should either of them see her start it would be entirely natural that they should enquire her errand. Nor was it at all improbable that Val Tracy might feel called on to accompany her if she told them she was off for a walk to Coulter Woods. She dared not run any risks, and had no wish to excite suspicion by evasive answers. So she decided to avoid questions.
“I must wait till they go away,” she said to herself, and sat down to watch the two.