Audrey had risen also.
“Mademoiselle Laure,” she said, “or Miss Candover, which am I to call you?”
The woman came forward into the room, recovering herself and trying to smile at the girls.
“Oh, Madame,” she said, as she advanced her face to kiss Babs, who stood up straight and stiff, resenting the embrace, “you may call me whichever you please. I answer to both names: to that of Laure, the Frenchwoman, when you are Madame Rocada, the countess. To that of Candover when you are—Mrs. Angmering.”
It was the first time that Audrey had ever heard her speak any language but French, but after the revelations she had heard, she was surprised at nothing.
The girls, meanwhile, were evidently uneasy and disturbed. They remained close to Audrey, Babs in particular showing open dislike of her aunt, who turned to the elder girl and said:—
“I’m very glad you’ve come. But how did you know I was here?”
“We didn’t know it,” answered both girls together. “We came to see Mrs. Angmering,” added Pamela.
Mademoiselle Laure raised her eyebrows.
“Well,” she said, “it’s of no consequence, since you are here. I’ve changed my plans since I saw you yesterday, and now I’m going to take you to Paris with me, instead of settling down here. You will like that, won’t you?”