"Oh, dear!" she said.
The maid was sympathetic.
"Mr. Ferguson, the curate, miss, he's here, if he would do."
Maud brightened.
"He would do splendidly. Will you ask him if I can see him for a moment?"
"Very well, miss. What name, please?"
"He won't know my name. Will you please tell him that a lady wishes to see him?"
"Yes, miss. Won't you step in?"
The front door closed behind Maud. She followed the maid into the drawing-room. Presently a young small curate entered. He had a willing, benevolent face. He looked alert and helpful.
"You wished to see me?"