“No: I don’t think it will,” said Brenda. “I am sure Mr Timmins will be exceedingly careful not to make anything awful for you, Florence. Ah! and here he comes.”
The door was opened, and Mr Timmins came in. He was accompanied by a beautiful old lady, whose hair was snowy white. She wore a white cap made of Brussels lace. She was dressed in soft grey and wore a white embroidered scarf round her shoulders. Any one more elegant and altogether lovely than this old person the girls had never seen. She was as far removed from the people at Langdale as light is from darkness. Each movement was aristocratic, and in addition to that, she had one of the kindest faces in the world.
“How do you do, my dears?” she said, coming forward at once and taking a hand of each. “Now, let me guess to whom I am speaking. Yes, this must be Brenda. Brenda, you have such a look of your mother. I used to know her very, very well indeed a long time ago; and this, of course, is Florence; she has got her father’s eyes. Well, come upstairs with me, dears, won’t you? and let us have a chat together.”
The girls followed the old lady upstairs, but when they reached the drawing-room landing, they were astonished to find that Mr Timmins had not followed them.
“Where is Mr Timmins?” asked Florence at once.
“He will see you back to the railway station presently, Florence,” was Lady Marian’s reply. “He would rather we had a chat all alone for the time being.”
She took them both into a snug room, made them seat themselves, and then began to talk in an easy and pleasant way. When the girls had both got over their first shyness, she asked Brenda if she would come to her on a visit for three months.
“It is quite a short time,” she said; “but I name three months because I know you would like a limit to the time you propose to spend with me. During that period, I hope you will consider yourself in every respect my guest. I don’t offer you any salary, my dear, but I will give you what clothes are necessary, and you in return will write some letters for me and occasionally read aloud to me. I hope to make you quite happy. I would do more, far more than this for your mother’s daughter.”
“But what about Florence?” said Brenda, her pretty eyes filling with tears.
“Ah well,” said Lady Marian; “I did intend to offer the same hospitality to Florence, and she is at liberty to come to me if she wishes; but I think it is only fair to her to let her return to Langdale; at least for the present. If you do want to come to me, Florence, you have only to send me a letter.”