“Is Grandmamma in the drawing room, James?” demanded Beatrice Colchester of one of those superb individuals in blue and buff.
“She is, my lady,” he managed to reply, without so much as moving a muscle of his imperturbable countenance.
“Will you come up, please?” she continued, turning to Miss Campbell. “We shall have tea at once. I know you must be starving.”
Up they went in a silent procession, awed and subdued by the splendor of the wonderful old house. Suites of drawing rooms, they found later, were below on each side of the hall. The room they now entered was a big, beautiful apartment, which seemed to be furnished with numberless comfortable chairs and enormous sofas piled with cushions that were covered with old brocades. There were low tables about, filled with books and vases of flowers and photographs in silver frames. A grand piano was at one end and on the walls were fine old pictures, which no doubt were even more valuable than the portraits below. It was indeed a vast and beautiful room, but it was not so imposing as the great hall and it was light and bright and cheerful. Toasting her toes in a big arm chair by the fire sat a little old lady, and standing on a perch at her right hand was a poll-parrot which called out as they entered:
“Late to tea again! Naughty Bee. Come, come. Hurry, hurry, hurry!”
It was so funny that Nancy laughed out loud, a merry, musical laugh which made the parrot turn and stare and put his head on one side in a most human manner.
“Hoity-toity-toity-toity,” he said in a deep bass voice.
The old lady turned, too, and looked at the newcomers without surprise,—because English people are never surprised. The girls could see that in her prime she must have been quite like her granddaughter; her tall figure was shrunken small with age, but her nose looked larger because her face had shrunken, too. The eyes were the same deep blue, with a kindly, warm glow. She was dressed in a gray silk poplin with lace bertha and cuffs, and on her white hair she wore a little lace cap.
“Grannie, dear,” cried Beatrice, running up and kneeling beside her grandmother, “we’ve had, oh, such an exciting morning,—such adventures! I’ve brought some new American friends home to tea. We will tell you all about what happened when we have had food. Is tea coming?”
“Pray introduce your friends, child,” replied the old lady, endeavoring to rise from her chair with the aid of a mahogany stick.