To the first words, however, Audrey replied sharply:—
“No. That is not my name. It is Angmering, Mrs. Angmering.”
The visitor frowned.
“But you are the lady the girls—my daughters—sent me to see?”
“Yes, oh, yes. I had a letter from one of them, and I’ve been expecting you.”
As she spoke, she held out the letter, without, however, intending to give it up.
Rather to her dismay, the woman snatched it out of her hand.
“From my girl, my own girl! One of my own daughters, whom I’m not allowed to see! Who don’t believe in my existence! Oh, it’s more than I can bear!”
She broke down suddenly into a sort of hysterical sobbing without tears, and Audrey watched her with mingled sympathy and dismay.
Suddenly as she had broken out, she recovered, and, still with the same wild, intent look in her eyes, stared round the room until her gaze had taken in every object within her view. Then she turned abruptly to Audrey, who was getting alarmed by her behaviour.