“Miss Campbell,” said Beatrice gayly, “and these are Billie, Elinor, Mary and Nancy. This is my grandmother, the Duchess of Kilkenty.”
Miss Campbell turned quite pale for a moment. A duchess? Great heavens! She would never have consented to come if she had known she was to have tea with a duchess! She was quite ignorant about titled people. How was one to address a duchess? In the dim recesses of her mind it came to her that it was necessary to say “your grace.” But how absurd, to this simple little old lady with mild blue eyes! Therefore Miss Campbell merely said:
“It is very kind of you to take us in and treat us with so much hospitality. Your granddaughter insisted on bringing us back to tea. You see, one of my girls fainted in the Abbey and we lost her for a while——”
“Think of it, Grannie, locked all alone in the room with the wax effigies! Wasn’t she brave not to have been frightened?”
“Dear, dear,” exclaimed the Duchess of Kilkenty, “and which one of you had that experience?”
They indicated little Mary, who hung back, flushing crimson at this unusual notice.
“My child,” exclaimed the little old lady, sitting down in her chair again, “won’t you come and sit beside me? I should like very much to hear you tell the story yourself. You say you fainted and were locked in? Then, what did you do when you came back to consciousness?”
“I think I must have felt as Juliet did,” said Mary, “when she waked up in her tomb. For a moment I almost believed I had been laid away somewhere, and then I remembered.”
“And then what did you do?”
Mary blushed and hung her head.