Was Sheila growing tired of her, did she want her to leave Friars Court? The very suspicion of such a thing was paralyzing. She sat quite still for a few minutes as if she had been struck.
That night Miss Gregson, who was sitting by her bedroom window reading before preparing for bed, heard a knock, and the door opened to admit Sheila, who, throwing herself on the sofa with her hands clasped behind her head exclaimed—
"Angel dear, I do hope you are not tired, for I simply must have a talk with you."
Miss Gregson shut up her book and looked towards her visitor. There had been a time in her life when she had had hopes of being an artist and had indulged in absorbing dreams of her pictures hanging on the line at the Royal Academy. These dreams had gradually vanished like many another hope of her young days; but she still had great delight in beauty and was quick to see it when it came in her way. As she looked at Sheila she longed for her paint brush. The girl was wearing a soft pink silk, draped with ninon, low at the neck, on which gleamed a diamond pendant. She looked the picture of worldly prosperity, and Miss Gregson wondered what caused the shadow that lay in her eyes. She was soon to learn.
"Angel dear, prepare for a shock. You know I always surprise you, but I'm afraid this time it will be more than a surprise." Then she added, while the shadow was displaced by a merry twinkle, "Have you your Homoeopathic box at hand? I know you will need it."
"My dear, what is the matter?" asked Miss Gregson, ignoring the last remark.
"Well I've come to the conclusion that I am the most unsatisfactory person in the world. What am I to do?"
Miss Gregson was somewhat of the same opinion, but all the time the girl was talking she could not help thinking what a lovely creature she was.
"Do help me, Angel," pleaded Sheila.
"I can't unless you enlighten me a little more."