"You will not be angry," said Harold earnestly, "if I tell you that
you are not in the least what I expected to find you, Miss
Fanshawe--"
"Miss Fanshawe!" Her gay laugh was infectious. "I'm afraid--"
But just now the butler came in to say that the carriage was coming up
the drive. Harold went out to meet his mother, without noticing that
the young lady also got up and hurriedly left the room.
"It's just like you, you stupid boy!" said the heiress. "Why did you
give me no notice?"
"I meant to have written from Paris. But it's all for the best. You
were quite right. She is perfectly charming."
"Who?"
"Miss Fanshawe. I have made her acquaintance."
"In town?"
"No, here; in your own morning-room."
"What!" The ejaculation contained volumes. "Was there ever anything so
annoying! But it is all your fault for coming so unexpectedly."
"What harm? We introduced ourselves, Miss Fanshawe--"
"Miss Fiddlesticks! That's Dolly Driver, your father's cousin!"
"Indeed! Then I wish I had made the acquaintance of my father's
cousins a little earlier in life. Why have I been kept in ignorance of
my relatives? Where do they live?"
Mrs. Purling, instead of answering him, took him by the arm abruptly,
as if to ask him some searching question; then suddenly checking
herself, she said--
"Have you had lunch? It must be ready.
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