[CHAPTER XLIII.]
GETTING NEARER
Mary drew back a moment to see what was going to happen. She ought to have been utterly taken by surprise at her discovery, but she felt no emotion of that kind. She was past the feeling--life had been too full of thrilling incidents during the last few hours for that. It never occurred to the girl that she had made a mistake. In an instant her mind was made up. Very swiftly and silently she darted after Lady Dashwood, and followed her into a room at the back of the house. There was a grimy specimen of the London charwoman on the floor, scrubbing the dirty boards apparently in readiness for the laying of a roll of linoleum that stood in one corner. A bottle half filled with beer ornamented the mantelpiece, and from this the worker on the floor frequently refreshed herself, as her red face testified.
She looked up angrily as Lady Dashwood entered. The intruder had to ask her question twice before she drew a reply.
"Mrs. Speed isn't in," the woman said, "and if she was, she would not care to see any visitors as yet. We only moved in here last night, and not so much as an odd man to help for love nor money, and me fit to drop."
"I am sorry to hear that," Lady Dashwood said in her gentle manner, "I have come up from the country especially to see Mrs. Speed. Can you give me any idea what time she is likely to be back again?"
"No, I can't," was the surly reply, "not before tea-time anyway. If you like to wait in the dining-room, you can do so--you don't look the sort to go off with anything. And there's an armchair or two in there."
As Lady Dashwood turned she came face to face with Mary. She stood quite still, too utterly surprised to speak. Mary took her by the arm, and led the way to the dining-room. She pushed one of the chairs forward, and invited Lady Dashwood to sit down. Then Mary closed the door. She smiled at the helpless amazement of Lady Dashwood's face.
"Mary, my dear child, what are you doing here?" the elder lady gasped.
"I might ask you the same question," Mary said. "What you regard as a most strange coincidence has a very prosaic explanation. Oh, my dearest, if you only knew how glad I am to see you again! If you only knew how I have missed you. But I need not go into that now; there will be plenty of time presently. My dear, I have been learning things the last two days and have been making discoveries. You may not believe it, but I am glad that I came here, yes, glad, glad!"