It took this beautiful young woman several moments to realise that she absolutely could not have her way; that the humble and poor cottage girl would not part with her legitimate property.
When Lady Ursula realised this, which she did after a considerable and fatiguing discussion, she sat silent for a moment or two. Then she jumped up and looked out of the window. She pulled aside the soft rose-coloured silk curtains to take this peep into the outer world. Her eager dark eyes looked down the street and up the street. For all her languor she was now fully alive and even quick in her movements. With a pettish action she let the rose curtains cover the window again, and going to the fireplace pressed the button of an electric bell.
In a moment an elderly woman dressed in black silk, with a book-muslin apron, and a white cap with long streamers of lace, appeared.
“Nurse,” said Lady Ursula, “please give orders that I am not at home to any callers this morning.”
“I will attend to the matter, my lady,” answered the nurse. “But if Captain Valentine calls?”
“I am not at home—I make no exception.”
The nurse respectfully withdrew, and the door, which opened into the tapestry, was noiselessly closed.
“Now,” said Lady Ursula, turning to me, “I am going to confide in you, Miss Lindley.”
I felt quite cross. I was dying to be home with mother and Jack, and wondering if my poor new sister Hetty was being starved by Mrs Ashton.
Lady Ursula looked at me with an expression which seemed to say—