She had heard the door of the drawing-room open and close quietly, and there came a rustle of silk skirts.
Lady Attwill had glided quietly into the room and stepped up to the big writing-table at which Peggy conducted most of her correspondence.
The maid stepped out from behind the screen, her eyes shining curiously. "Can I do anything for madame?" she asked. "Miladi a oublié quelque chose, n'est-ce pas?"
The tall, slim woman seemed strangely confused. Her face was a little flushed, her glance at Pauline distinctly uneasy.
She made an exclamation in French, paused to think, and then answered Pauline in English.
"I thought I left my bag down here," she said lamely.
Without troubling to disguise the suspicion and hostility in her voice, and with a slightly sneering note of triumph in it, as if she was pleased at Alice Attwill's confusion, Pauline made a little mocking bow.
"Madame had her bag in her hand when she went upstairs. But I will ring and ask." She went towards the nearest bell-push.
"No! no!" Lady Attwill answered; "please don't trouble. I must be mistaken."
Without a backward glance she almost hurried from the room.