CHAPTER VIII.
MISS WILHELMINA CALLS UPON FLORA.
The breakfast things were scarcely removed the following morning, when Miss Carr walked into the room, where Flora was employed at her work-table, in manufacturing some small articles of dress.
“Your husband is afraid of me, Mrs. Lyndsay: he started off the moment he saw me coming up to the door. I don’t want to banish him from his own house.”
“Oh, not at all. He has business in town, Miss Carr. You have favoured me with a very early visit.”
“Too early? Just speak the truth plainly out. Why the deuce do people tell so many stories, when it would be far easier to speak the truth? I assure you, that you look so neat and comfortable in your morning costume, that you have no reason to be ashamed. I like to come upon people unawares,—to see them as they really are. You are welcome to come and see me in my night-cap, when the spirit moves me. When I’m not out walking, I’m always at home. Busy at work, too?” she continued, putting a tiny cap upon her fist. “That looks droll, and tells tales.”
“Oh, don’t!—do spare me,” cried Flora, snatching the article from her odd companion, and hiding it away in the table-drawer. “I did not mean that any one should catch me at this work.”
“Don’t think, my dear, that I am going to criticise you. I am no judge of sewing,—never set a stitch in my life. It must be a dull way of spending time. Can’t you put your needle-work out?”
Flora shook her head.