“Yes, but this morning I gave up my rooms there. So I’ve got no home now.”
“It happens that this stupid play is called ‘The Lady of Laxton.’”
“There are very few real ladies in Laxton,” said the student of The Patrician in a burst of candor.
“So one would think if this play is at all true to life,” rose to the lips of Elfreda, but she did not allow it to escape.
What she did say was, “The plot of this play is that a governess and a peer’s daughter arriving at a place in the country by the same train get mixed up. The governess goes off with the other girl’s luggage as a guest to one house and the peer’s daughter finds herself taken for a governess at the other.”
“But what a splendid idea!”
“Do you really think so?” The daughter of the marquis opened incredulous eyes. “In the first place, it could never have happened.”
“Oh, I think it might have happened—but of course it would have been found out at once.”
“As a matter of fact, the author gets over that part rather well. It seems they arranged the matter beforehand because the peer’s daughter wanted to teach some snobs a lesson.”
“But it’s splendid!” Miss Cass clapped her hands with enthusiasm—the Devil was in the wine. “And, of course, the son at the smart house proposes to the governess thinking she’s the peer’s daughter and vice versa.”