“I know what you mean,” remarked the old lady acutely. “Her grandmother—I’m speaking now of forty year ago, mind you—her grandmother ran off with a—let me see! Forget me own name next.”
Erb answered the quiet tap at the open door.
“Good girl!” he cried cheerfully. “Welcome to our baronial hall! Aunt Emma, this is the young lady that’s going to pilot you round. Almost makes you seem,” he said to Rosalind, “like one of the family.”
“I only had to put off three pupils,” said Rosalind quickly. “How do you do?”
“I’m going downstairs to fetch coffee and scones for you two,” announced Erb. “Try not to come to blows whilst I’m away.”
“My sciatica is just beginning to wake up, as you may say,” replied Aunt Emma.
“So sorry,” said Rosalind sympathetically. “It must interfere with getting about.”
“Thank you,” replied Aunt Emma coldly. “I’m able to set up and take nourishment.”
“I expect your nephew has a lot of callers,” she said with determination. “He knows a good many people.”
“Are you acquainted with our Lady Frances,” asked the aunt in a mysterious whisper.