"I will do my best, sir. But I am by no means an independent personage; I am merely an appendage—a chattel, if you like the word better."
"Nay, I like neither word," the young man said; "they do not suit you. But to return to the visit to-morrow. Could you not make it alone?"
Griselda shook her head, and then laughing, said:
"It depends on the temperature."
"But a chair is at your disposal. I can commend to you two steady men who would convey you to Rivers Street."
But Griselda shook her head.
"I was not thinking of wind and weather, sir; but of the mood in which my lady finds herself!"
A bright smile seemed to show that Griselda's point was understood.
"The Lady Betty is your aunt?"
"Hush, sir!—not that word. I am forbidden to call her 'aunt,' it smacks of age and does not seem appropriate. I was Mr. Longueville's niece, and, as I told you, I am a chattel left to Lady Betty for the term of—well, my natural life, I suppose."