"Oh yes—to Bayreuth; she said she might go, but I didn't think it would be so soon." Margaret stood dismayed.
"Is there anything I can do, miss? You are the young lady that came that morning with Mr. Carringford, and put out the flowers?"
"Yes—yes! I thought Miss Hunstan would advise me," Margaret answered, desperately. "I have come to London alone this time, not with my father, and I want to live somewhere." For a moment Mrs. Gilman looked at her doubtfully.
"You are very young to be alone," she said.
"Oh yes, I'm very young; but that has nothing to do with it."
"And you have no friends in London?"
"I'm afraid they're all away," Margaret answered. "Mrs. and Miss Lakeman are going to Scotland to-day."
"I know them," Mrs. Gilman said, her face brightening, "and you know Mr. Carringford, too?"
"Oh yes. I stayed at the Langham Hotel with my father," she went on, "but I am afraid to go there now—alone."
"I have a bedroom and sitting-room; perhaps you would like them, miss; they are the drawing-rooms. Miss Hunstan preferred the lower floor because it was easier to come in and out. I don't know if they'd be too expensive?"