She disengaged the string from her foot, got up, and looked from the door. Mrs. Chester's children ran across the shrubbery with fleet feet and noisy tongues, and the sound of their voices faded away in the distance.
"It is a Miss Clapperton. Mrs. Chester introduced her to me by that name. Lydia Clapperton, I think, she called her."
Mr. Lake stared in his surprise. "That Lydia Clapperton!"
"Mrs. Chester certainly called her so."
"Why, then--who are you?"
"I? Oh, I am the Indian Begum; but I did not come on an elephant."
His pulses stood still for a moment. But he thought she was playing a joke upon him.
"You are not--you cannot be--Lady Ellis!"
"I am indeed. The old relict of Colonel Sir George Ellis, K.C.B."
Never in all his life had Robert Lake been so taken to, never had he felt more thoroughly confused and ashamed. The hot crimson mounted to his temples. Lady Ellis had sat down again, and was quietly going on with her work.