No sooner had the old woman entered the blue drawing-room than she stood dumfounded with amazement. And yet there is reason to believe that this attitude was in some measure assumed. Jim Lascelles continued to ply his brush in blissful ignorance of her presence; Miss Perry, for political reasons, continued strictly to maintain her pose. Cheriton, however, put up a solemn forefinger. Nevertheless, signs were not wanting that the mistress of the house was about to disregard his warning.
“Ssssh, Caroline!” said he.
“What, pray, is the meaning of this?” demanded the old lady.
“This is a most critical stage,” said Cheriton. “Three minutes more and I shall invite you to speak with freedom.”
“Tell me,” snorted the old lady. “Why is that girl sitting there in that manner in the gewgaws of a play-actress?”
“Sssh, Caroline! Don’t you see?”
The perfect composure of the fair sitter, and the fact that she chose to remain deaf, dumb, and blind to the intruder, seemed to exasperate that autocrat.
“Tell me, girl, what is the meaning of it?” she stormed.
She beat the carpet with the ebony walking-stick.
“Move not the Chin Piece, the Young Man said,” Jim whispered.