Before Peters could obey, the door opened from without, and Mrs. Blight, her chains tinkling and her red silk gown rustling, came into the room as airily as the rotund proportions of her figure would permit.
Her glances fell upon Lally, who was still sitting at the feet of her great-aunt, and Mrs. Blight’s face showed her surprise and displeasure.
“I didn’t hear the piano, dear Aunt Wroat,” she exclaimed, “and I feared my governess might not have obeyed my order and come in to you. Miss Bird, I fear you forget your place. You are not a guest in this house—you are merely a hired servant. If you try, like a treacherous viper, to creep into the good graces of my poor unsuspecting relative, I shall dismiss you in the morning. You are to play upon the piano, and then go to your room.”
The old lady’s yellow and bony hand was stretched out and laid caressingly on Lally’s black hair.
“I was talking to the child, Laura,” she said. “I have been hearing her history. Don’t you remember that I’ve been trying for years to find my niece, Clara Bird, or her children? Well, this girl is Clara’s child—”
A look of fear and anger disfigured Mrs. Blight’s face. The girl became, upon the instant, a terror to her.
“Aunt Wroat,” said the lawyer’s wife hastily, “this girl is a mere imposter that I took in out of charity. She has deceived you. Miss Bird, go to your room at once. To-morrow morning you leave my house.”
“Peters,” said Mrs. Wroat quietly, “give me my purse.”
Peters brought a plethoric pocket-book from her mistress’ traveling-bag, and the old lady took out a five-pound Bank of England note.
“Give that to Mrs. Blight, Peters,” continued the old lady calmly. “Mrs. Blight, that is the amount you advanced to my great-niece when she entered your service. I do not wish her to be indebted to you. And here are twenty pounds to reimburse you for any expense I may have put you to. I am sorry, Laura, to disappoint you,” added Mrs. Wroat, putting her wallet in her pocket, “but you and your husband need the lesson. I am not so deaf but that I heard every whisper you and your husband exchanged in the drawing-room to-night. I am aware that you consider me ‘an old cat,’ and ‘an old nuisance,’ and that you ‘would send me to an alms-house, if it were not for my money.’ I have now only to say to you that your heartlessness has met with its appropriate reward. This young lady is my adopted daughter and future heiress, and when you order a cab for her in the morning, you may let the boy come up for my luggage also. I shall go with my adopted daughter.”