“Is Mrs. Tarbot at home?”
“I will inquire, madam, if you will wait a moment.”
“If she is at home I should like to see her.”
“What name shall I say?”
“Lady Pelham.”
The man invited Barbara in and went up-stairs to make the inquiry. He returned quickly to say that his mistress was at home, and would be pleased to see Lady Pelham.
Barbara followed him up the richly carpeted stairs into a magnificent drawing-room on the first floor. This room had been newly furnished, and showed excellent taste in all its arrangements. The electric light was subdued by golden silk draperies over the pomegranate shaped globes, the curtains were drawn before the large windows, there was a fire in the grate. From the depths of a deep arm-chair a tall woman dressed in black rose as Barbara entered. She had a pale face and radiant red-gold hair. She came a step or two forward and half hesitated whether to hold out her hand or not. Barbara advanced to meet her. For a moment she could not recognize in this graceful and perfectly dressed lady Nurse Ives, whom she had last seen at Ashley Mansions.
“Is this really you?” was the exclamation which burst involuntarily from her lips.
“Yes, it is I,” replied Mrs. Tarbot. “I am changed.”
“You are transformed.”