The bewildered Mary obeyed. The procession was formed: Stella, in her chair; Mary; Constable, head down, wondering like an old dog at the queer, newfangled ways of the world; and the bedraggled woman, with her pallid and staring baby.
The chair was wheeled across the threshold of the drawing-room. The tramp paused irresolute. Bidden to enter and sit down, she chose a straight-backed chair near the door. Mary sped to fetch her mistress to deal with the appalling situation. In a moment or two Lady Blount hurried in. The woman rose and sketched a vague curtsy.
Lady Blount began:
“My darling Stella—”
But Stella checked her, stretching out passionate hands.
“Aunt Julia, give me two or three thousand pounds at once, please, please!”
“My dear, what for?” asked the amazed lady.
“To give to this poor woman. She and her baby are dying of starvation. They are dressed in rags. They have no home. It 's dreadful, horrible! Can you conceive it?”
Lady Blount turned to the woman.
“Go round to the kitchen entrance, and they will give you some food. I 'll see you myself later.”