Lady Lydiard had not got to the end of her reflections. She said “Yes!”—and she said no more.
“Is it anything relating to my niece?” persisted Miss Pink.
Still immersed in her reflections, Lady Lydiard suddenly rose to the surface, and spoke her mind, as usual.
“About your niece, ma’am. The other day Mr. Hardyman called at my house, and saw Isabel.”
“Yes,” said Miss Pink, politely attentive, but not in the least interested, so far.
“That’s not all ma’am. Mr. Hardyman admires Isabel; he owned it to me himself in so many words.”
Miss Pink listened, with a courteous inclination of her head. She looked mildly gratified, nothing more. Lady Lydiard proceeded:
“You and I think differently on many matters,” she said. “But we are both agreed, I am sure, in feeling the sincerest interest in Isabel’s welfare. I beg to suggest to you, Miss Pink, that Mr. Hardyman, as a near neighbor of yours, is a very undesirable neighbor while Isabel remains in your house.”
Saying those words, under a strong conviction of the serious importance of the subject, Lady Lydiard insensibly recovered the manner and resumed the language which befitted a lady of her rank. Miss Pink, noticing the change, set it down to an expression of pride on the part of her visitor which, in referring to Isabel, assailed indirectly the social position of Isabel’s aunt.
“I fail entirely to understand what your Ladyship means,” she said coldly.