"Now, Miss, you listen: we have had that discussion once before, and we don't want it gone over again. So long as my lady keeps her rooms, neither you nor anybody else can be admitted to her; you wouldn't be if you paid for it in gold. And I'm much surprised that a young lady, calling herself a lady, should persist in pressing it."
"Hill, I am not pressing it. I only asked the question: As I cannot see Lady Chandos, will you deliver a message to her for me? If I can be of any use in taking the duties of companion to Mrs. Chandos in this temporary need, I shall be glad to be so, and will do my very best."
To see the countenance with which Hill received these words, was something comical: the open mouth, the stare of astonishment.
"You take the duties of companion to Mrs. Chandos!" uttered she, at length. "Bless the child! you little know what you ask for."
"But will you mention it to Lady Chandos?"
Hill vouchsafed no answer. She cast a glance of pity on my ignorance or presumption, whichever she may have deemed it, and quietly went out of the room.
That it was perfectly useless persisting, or even thinking of the affair further, I saw, and got out my writing-desk. Not a word had come to me from Mrs. Paler, not a hint at payment; and I wrote a civil request that she would kindly forward me the money due.
This over, I sat, pen in hand, deliberating whether to write or not to Emily de Mellissie, when a loud ring came to the house-door. One of the footmen crossed the hall to answer it.
"Is Lady Chandos at home?" I heard demanded, in a ladylike and firm voice.
"Her ladyship is at home, ma'am," answered Joseph, "but she does not receive visitors."