“You, Mrs. Archibald McPherson! that—­that—­” she did not say what, but added, “What are you doing here?”

“Visiting Mrs. Smithers like yourself,” Daisy replied, with imperturbable gravity.  “We were together in Florence, where I was sick, and she was kind enough to like me, and she invited me to spend this month with her, so that I might meet Archie’s relatives, whom she thought I ought to know, and Lady Oakley thinks so too.  She came yesterday.”

“Yes,” Lady Jane kept repeating, as she retreated step by step till she stood in her own door, with her eyes still fixed upon Daisy, who fascinated her in spite of her deeply rooted prejudice, amounting almost to hatred.

The creature, as she designated her, was far prettier than she had supposed, and might pass for a lady with those who knew nothing of her antecedents—­but then her reputation as a bold, fast woman!  Would it be safe or right to allow Blanche, whom she designed for Neil, to remain under the same roof with such a person? was her first query.  Still, if Mrs. Smithers, who was a power in the social world, notwithstanding her connection with trade, had taken her up, and Lady Oakley, too, perhaps it would be better not to make a scene and show her animosity too much.  She could be barely civil to the woman and cut her visit short on one pretext or another.  Thus deciding, she said: 

“Meeting you so suddenly has surprised me very much, Mrs. McPherson.  I hope your husband is well.  I knew him when a boy.  Perhaps he is in the drawing-room.  I think I will go down, as it is nearly dinnertime,” and bowing stiffly, she went down the stairs, every nerve quivering with insulted dignity, and not quite certain whether she heard a smothered laugh or not from the room, where Daisy was shaking with laughter at what she termed the old cat’s discomfiture.

“Nasty thing!” she said “how she hates me, and how little I care!  I hope I sha’n’t let her spoil my fun.  I have the inside track, and I mean to keep it!”

Thus deciding, she, too, started for the drawing-room, where the guests were assembling for dinner, and where Mrs. Smithers, who was by nature rather officious and anxious to right everything, was explaining to Lady Jane that she had invited Mr. and Mrs. Archibald McPherson to meet her, and was descanting upon the beauty and amiability of the latter, whom her ladyship was sure to like.

“A little too much of a coquette, perhaps,” she said, “but so very pretty and piquant that she cannot help attracting admiration.”

“Yes, I know—­I have seen her.  I made her acquaintance in the upper hall,” Lady Jane answered, coldly, and this saved the embarrassment of an introduction when Daisy at last appeared, perfectly self-possessed and graceful, and looking, as Lady Jane unwillingly confessed to herself, as innocent as a Madonna.

Meanwhile Archie had sought his uncle, resolved to have the awkwardness of their first meeting over before any prying eyes were upon them.  He found him alone, and, mustering all his courage, went up to him and offered his hand, as if nothing had ever occured to separate them.