“Major Selby hasn’t arrived yet, miss.”
“That’s odd. I suppose he must have taken a later train.”
“There’s a lady in the drawing-room, miss, waiting to see him. She didn’t give any name. She said she would wait till the major came. She’s been waiting a goodish while.”
“All right, Jane. Thanks. Will you bring up tea.”
They walked down the hall. The drawing-room was on the ground floor, a long, dim room that would have looked like a converted studio but for the absence of bright light. A girl was sitting at the far end by the fireplace. She rose: as they entered.
“How do you do?” said Jill. “I’m afraid my uncle has not come back yet …”
“Say!” cried the visitor. “You did get out quick!”
Jill was surprised. She had no recollection of ever having seen the other before. Her visitor was a rather pretty girl, with a sort of jaunty way of carrying herself which made a piquant contrast to her tired eyes and wistful face. Jill took an immediate liking to her. She looked so forlorn and pathetic.
“My name’s Nelly Bryant,” said the girl. “That parrot belongs to me.”
“Oh, I see.”