"Your stepmother," said Walker, smiling.
"No," said Lesbia shuddering, "don't call her that."
"Why not? She has behaved exactly as a stepmother does--in fiction."
Lesbia shook her head. "I think of her merely as Lady Charvington--a stranger, and when we are married I shall never set eyes on her again."
"I don't think she wants to see you," said George drily. "She is still vindictive. It seems that she always loved your father and can never forgive your dead mother for having married him. Thus she visits her anger upon you, my dear. However, what she does or what she says matters little. And for her own sake she will say as little as possible."
"She is a strange woman," sighed Lesbia, "and very unhappy."
"Don't make any mistake, my dear. Lady Charvington is too hard-hearted to be unhappy. So long as she has her rank and her title and her crowds of adorers, she cares for no one. Whatever love she may have had for your father she has long since given entirely to herself."
"Do Agatha and Lena know that I am their half-sister?"
"No. I was talking about that yesterday to Lord Charvington. As you know he has not been able to do anything because of his illness, but he is only waiting to get on his feet again to put matters straight."
"In what way?" asked the girl anxiously.