"What!" cried Polly, astonished that the domestics had admitted any one, as it was against the orders.
"Oh, I am a relation," said the girl coolly, "and I told the man at the door that I should come in; and he said then I must wait, for I could not see Mr. King now, and he put me up in that little reception room, but I just walked out to meet the first person coming in the hall. Will you be so kind as to arrange it?"
She looked as if she fully expected to have her wish fulfilled, and her gaze wandered confidently around the picture-hung wall, until such time as Polly could answer.
"I'll see," said Polly, who couldn't help smiling, "what I can do for you; but you mustn't be disappointed if Grandpapa doesn't feel able to see you. He is very much occupied, you know, with his daughter's ill"—
"Oh, I understand," said the other girl, guilty of interrupting, "but he will see me, I know," and her light blue eyes were as calm as ever.
"Who shall I tell him wants to see him?" asked Polly, her own eyes wide at the stranger and her ways.
"Oh, you needn't tell him any name," said the girl carelessly.
"Then I certainly shall not tell him you wish to see him, unless I carry your name to him," Polly said quite firmly, and she looked steadily into the fair face before her.
"Oh, dear me," said the girl; "well, you may say I am Mr. Alexander
Chatterton's daughter Charlotte."
Polly kept herself from starting as the name met her ear. "Very well," she said, "I will do what I can," moving off. "O, Grandpapa!"