It would seem that for the moment the name of Perry had passed as completely out of her head as though it had never been in it; and the question she had put to Mr. Marchbanks was precisely the one that that diplomatist desired her to answer herself.
“She appears to have business with your ladyship,” said he.
“Very odd,” said his venerable mistress. “A young person of the name of Perry.”
And then quite suddenly a light dawned upon her.
“Of course,” she said to her gentlewoman; “I had forgotten. That girl of Polly’s.”
Like a hawk she swooped down upon the luckless Mr. Marchbanks.
“Tell me, Marchbanks,” she said, “what you mean precisely by a young person of the name of Perry. Do you wish to infer that she is not a lady?”
It was as tight a corner as Mr. Marchbanks had ever been in. Yet he yielded to none in professional wisdom.
“I don’t wish to infer, your ladyship, that she might not be a lady,” said Mr. Marchbanks, cautiously.
“It appears to me, Marchbanks,” said his venerable mistress, “that you are getting too old for your place. I will see my niece, Miss Perry.”