Mrs. Busby and her daughter were in the sitting room up stairs. Rotha had knocked, modestly, and as she went in they both lifted up their heads and looked at her, with a long look of survey. Rotha had come quite up to them before her aunt spoke.
"Well, Rotha,—so it is you?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Have you come to see me at last?"
"Yes, ma'am. Mrs. Mowbray said you wished it."
"What made you choose to-day particularly?"
"Nothing. Mrs. Mowbray said—"
"Well, go on. What did Mrs. Mowbray say?"
"She said you wanted to have me come, some day, and she thought I had better do it to-day."
"Yes. Did she give no reason?"