"It's all rubbish—I don't believe a word of it," she told herself. "She only said it because she thought it would please me."
"We're just dying for some tea, Greyson," she told the maid who admitted them. "I hope you've got some for us."
"Miss Chester is having tea now," the girl answered. "There is a lady with her in the drawing-room—a Mrs. Heriot."
Marie stood still with a little shock. She had quite forgotten that Chris had said Mrs. Heriot would probably call.
CHAPTER XIX
"I love him, and I love him, and I love!
Oh heart, my love goes welling o'er the brim;
He makes my light more than the sun above.
And what am I! save what I am to him?"