“Please, Miss Dora,” said Lady Elizabeth’s maid, “you are wanted in the library.”
“I am wanted in the library!” I echoed, in surprise. “Why, who can possibly want me?”
“I do not know. It was milady who sent me to ask you to go down to the library.”
“Is Lady Elizabeth there?”
“No, she is in her boudoir. Mr. Courtney is with her.”
At first it struck me as very singular that there should be a caller who wished to see me alone, and then I reflected that my music-master had perhaps found it inconvenient to give me my music lesson at the usual hour, and had come to ask me to change the time. Full of this thought, I hurried downstairs, but was very much surprised to be confronted, not by Signor Tringini, but by the Earl of Greatlands.
“My dear child, how astonished you look,” he said, as, coming forward and taking my hand, he conducted me courteously to a seat.
“Well,” I replied, “I cannot conceive what can be your object in desiring an interview with me. But perhaps there has been a mistake, and it is Belle you want.”
“Indeed, it is not Belle I want, but your very own self.”
“I hope I have not been doing anything to call forth your particular displeasure. I have really tried to be on my best behavior with everybody since I came to London.”