Miss Chandos turned round and looked at me. "No," she laughed, "it was never accomplished. I believe the chief impediment was, the not knowing where to run to. Are you the Miss Hereford?"
"Yes."
"What a bit of a child you seem! You won't like a French school, if this is your first entrance to one. Home comforts and French schools are as far apart as the two poles."
"But I am not accustomed to home comforts; I have no home. I have been for some years at an English school where there was little comfort of any sort. Do your friends live in England? Have you a home there?"
"A home in England!" she answered, with some surprise at the question, or at my ignorance. "Of course: I am Miss Chandos. Chandos is mamma's present residence; though, strictly speaking, it belongs to Sir Thomas."
All this was so much Greek to me. Perhaps Miss Chandos saw that it was, for she laughed gaily.
"Sir Thomas Chandos is my brother. Harry is the other one. We thought Tom would have retired from the army and come home when papa died, two or three years ago; but he still remains in India. Mamma writes him word that he should come home and marry, and so make himself into a respectable man; he sends word back that he is respectable enough as it is."
"Your papa was——?"
"Sir Thomas Chandos. Ah, dear! if he had but lived! He was so kind to us! Mamma is in widow's weeds yet, and always will be."
"And who was she who brought you on board?"