And then one rather gloomy, early spring day Mrs. Tweksbury came upon the scene.
Joan knew her at once, although the old face was more wrinkled and delicate.
Of course Mrs. Tweksbury had not the slightest inkling concerning Joan's movements, and she looked upon the veiled young creature moving about the tea room with a cool, calm stare of amused disapproval.
"Quite a faddish thing you're making of your venture," she said to Elspeth Gordon, for of course with a bishop for a grandfather Miss Gordon was taken for granted. Elspeth smiled her most dignified smile and replied graciously:
"Just a bit of amusement, Mrs. Tweksbury. It helps digestion and, incidentally, helps business."
"But the—the young woman, Miss Gordon—is she a professional?"
"Have you tested her, Mrs. Tweksbury?"
"Oh! no, my dear Miss Gordon." Mrs. Tweksbury had beautiful old hands and she turned the palms up while she considered them.
"Suppose you judge for yourself, Mrs. Tweksbury." Elspeth was charmingly easy in her manner.
"Who is she?" bluntly asked the old lady.