“I must hear all about them,” she said. “But not today. And I am keeping you out here in the passage all this time.”
“That is my fault,” said Lilias. “Won’t you come in? I know Mrs Greville would be pleased to see you.” (A thoroughly true assertion, as Mrs Greville was already on the verge of that peculiar phase of ennui so apt to seize on active practical people when away from “home” and its duties, stranded in a strange place where they know no one, and never go out without the consciousness of the terrible word “visitors” branded on their foreheads.)
“Not to-day, thank you, my dear. I must run home,” said Mrs Brabazon. “But tell me what day will you spend with us? Can you come to-morrow? We are at the —.”
Lilias might have hesitated to accept too readily the invitation, however cordial, of the rich relations who for so many long years had ignored Margaret Western and her children; but the influence of Mary’s earnest advice was too strong upon her to make her dream of holding back. Besides, it was impossible to look in Mrs Brabazon’s face and doubt her good intentions.
“Thank you,” the girl replied. “I should like to come very much. But I think I must return here early, the evenings are so dull for Mr and Mrs Greville.”
“Of course,” said Mrs Brabazon. “And Anselm is always so tired in the evening. The day-time is the best for us. I will send the carriage for you at half-past twelve—will that do?—and it shall bring you back again at four or five, or any time you like. Possibly Anselm may be going a drive, and would come round this way for you. And pray apologise to Mrs Greville for my unceremonious behaviour.”
“Thank you,” said Lilias. “Yes, that will suit me perfectly. I shall be ready at half-past twelve.”
“Good-bye, then, for the present. I shall have a great deal to talk to you about to-morrow. I want to hear everything about your brothers and sisters and everybody,” said Mrs Brabazon, as she shook hands in farewell.
Lilias went back to the drawing-room to tell her surprising news to her friends. Mrs Greville was full of interest and excitement, Mr Greville somewhat inclined to question the advisability of this sudden friendship.
“Have you ever heard your mother speak of this Mrs Brabazon? Are you quite sure she is what she represents herself to be?” he said, doubtfully.