Diana smiled. Miss Preston! Who was she? A new inmate of the household?—a companion for “Ma”—and “young” enough for “Pa”?
“Yes—Miss Preston will do,” she said, and forthwith she was shown into a shady little morning-room which she well remembered, where she used to tot up the tradesmen’s books and sort the bills. A saucy-looking girl with curly brown hair rose from the perusal of a novel and stared at her inquiringly and superciliously.
“I have called to see Mrs. May”—she explained “on very particular and personal business.”
“What name?” inquired the girl, with a standoffish air.
“The same as her own. Kindly tell her, please. Miss May.”
“I really don’t know whether she will see you,” said the girl, carelessly. “I am her secretary and companion——”
“So I imagine!” and Diana, without being asked, sank gracefully into an easy chair, which she remembered as comfortable—“I was also her secretary and companion—for some time! She knows me very well!”
“Oh, in that case——But does she expect you?”
“Hardly!” And Diana smiled. “But I’m sure she’ll be glad to see me. You are Miss Preston? Yes? Well then, Miss Preston, do please go and tell her!”
At that moment, a loud voice called: